Harry Potter and the Demon's Wrath
by Faded Nights
Summary: A dream. The submission of one tyrant to another. A multi-dimensional problem to solve, their only hope a seventeen year old half-human girl and a woman undeserving of their trust. The battle for Wizarding Britain has escalated out of their control...
1. The Blooded Demoness

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Titans, nor do I own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the two. Teen Titans is © of DC Comics, Harry Potter is © of J.K. Rowling, and Warner Brothers holds © over both of them.

**Author's Warning:** This is a crossover fic. :Watches people close the window.: Ahem. Those of you who do not like crossovers may leave now. The rest of you, I invite to continue on… _Note – Story contains major HBP spoilers_.

**Summary:** Trigon has returned, and Voldemort has joined him as a minion. Drawn by strange dreams, Raven must involve herself in the problems of others, including one Harry Potter, who is once again being plagued by strange dreams. This year at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends are going to be pitted against their most difficult task yet. Destroying a force that even the Dark Lord himself fears won't be easy…

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Demon's Wrath or; Year Seven and Negative One-Fourth**

_Chapter 1 – The Blooded Demoness_

Raven's eyes shot wide open, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she awoke, her hair dripping with a cold sweat that soaked her body and sheets. She studied her room carefully, tendrils of power licking from her hands to inspect every corner. Nothing, so it had been a dream. A terrible dream of her damned father that she couldn't decipher the meaning of. There had been mention of a strange boy in the dream who Trigon was assisting a man to capture and kill. At least, she thought it had been a man – the figure had been wearing a heavy black cloak with a deep hood and she had been unable to distinguish the gender.

What worried her was the reason as to why her father would help someone to achieve their goals without there being something in it for himself. Trigon the Terrible wasn't a giving being, so there was either something in it for him that the two hadn't discussed, or (and far more likely) Trigon would later spring it on the human who was stupid enough to trust him. Either way, it looked as if someone – this 'Harry Potter' – was in a danger he'd not likely be able to get himself out of.

Of course, had she not been worried about Trigon's ulterior motives, she wouldn't have bothered even thinking about the other man's victim. Sure, loss of a life was something to prevent whenever possible – especially with her being a Titan – but the dream hadn't told her how to find them, nor had it told her whether this meeting was a recent occurrence, a future occurrence, or something that had already happened. For Potter's sake, she hoped it was at least recent.

She rubbed her eyes in an annoyed manner before pushing her figure from the bed and standing. She threw her cloak around her form and stalked out of the room with a glance at the clock – it was only four in the morning. She sighed and massaged her temples as she entered the dark kitchen and took a seat at the round kitchen table, using her powers to put the kettle to boil and to toss a teabag into a mug that sat waiting on the counter. Someone had been trying to tell her something – whether intentionally or unintentionally – which meant that she was going to be dragged into this situation whether she wanted to be dragged into it or not.

It also meant that she needed to find out more about what was going on. The kettle whistled as her thoughts ran away with her and she stood and directed her energies to pour the scalding water into her tea mug without giving much thought to it. Was it Trigon who had sent her the dream? If so, why? He knew he'd not be able to use her as the portal for a second time. He'd been 'destroyed' the first time (though Raven had known there'd really be no getting rid of him) and had lost the chance to fully bring himself into her realm.

So, it would make sense that he didn't want her to know anything about what he was planning. Which meant that either her foresight was getting better – an ability she'd never been all that strong in – or that someone else was broadcasting the dream to her - far more likely. She'd always been able to pick up strong mental images from distances of hundreds of miles away, and the ability had only gotten stronger since she'd come to Earth. Usually though, her shields were strong enough to keep things like this out, unless they had strong feelings of distress with them. Which meant that this dream was very real, and very urgent.

Setting her teacup beside her as she settled on the couch, Raven levitated into her customary meditative position as she wiped her mind blank of everything but her mantra. She'd deal with her problems once morning came, and no time before, and though she knew she'd be unable to sleep again, meditation would work well enough.

* * *

Raven's eyes snapped open at the sound of footsteps entering the main room, and she found herself staring through the window at the bright, late July morning sun that smiled over the bay. She'd been in deep meditation for over two hours, which explained the gnawing hunger in her stomach region, as well as the cold tea that sat on the table beside the couch.

"Morning, Raven," Robin greeted when her eyes fell on him. She walked over, cold tea in hand and placed it into the microwave, hitting the start button. She watched the Titan's leader scurry around the kitchen looking for something edible, before she finally spoke.

"Not going to wait for the morning breakfast argument?" she asked blandly. Robin gave her a sideways look and chuckled as he pulled two slices of surprisingly new looking bread from a cupboard and threw them into the toaster. She raised an eyebrow, "That's not much."

"I always get up for toast, then train, and then eat with the rest of you… What're you doing up so early anyway?" Robin replied, a querying tone to his voice. She glanced at the clock and sighed when she saw that it was 6:30. She wasn't surprised that he got up to train at the crack of dawn without them. It put him in that one step higher, leader-like position.

"Couldn't sleep," she responded evasively. When Robin raised an eyebrow, she simply shrugged, grabbed her tea and quickly left the room. He didn't need to know about the dream just yet. This was definitely something she didn't need to drag her friends into. There was enough on the Titans' plate, what with the return of Slade and the Jump City criminals taking every opportunity they could get to steal something – they seemed to be afraid that the world might end again.

And then there was Terra, who was back with the claim that she had no idea how she'd broken free of her stone grave. The only person who knew the true reason behind that – if Terra's claim was true anyway – was Raven, and she hadn't really felt the need to tell anyone. The simple answer? When Slade had released the souls to have his own returned to him, Terra's had escaped and returned to her body as well. It irritated Raven to no end to have the girl around, but she was coping with it – she stayed away from the blonde as much as was possible.

That was another reason for Raven to deal with this alone. Terra didn't now about Trigon, nor did she know about the problems they'd had with him, and it wasn't something Raven wanted her to find out about any time soon. Terra didn't need _that_ piece of information for when she betrayed them again. But then, Beast Boy was a loud mouth…

She chuckled to herself as she entered her room at the thought of Beast Boy. Though she'd never admit it to anyone – she hated to admit it to even herself – she thought Beast Boy to be quite sweet, good-looking… Raven shut the thought out with a shake of her head. The thoughts were ridiculous.

"Good morning, Raven," spoke a soft voice suddenly. Raven dropped her tea in shock as her hands flared alive with power and she took on a defensive position. She'd been so lost in thought that she hadn't noticed the figure standing before her until the woman had spoke.

However, she quickly realised why she'd missed her. The woman was wearing a cloak the colour of a moonless midnight and there was a deep hood pulled up over her head. In fact, the only visible colouring was the deep violet fringe that trimmed the edges of the cloak, and the pale purple energy ball that surrounded her extended hand. This, however, wasn't a gesture of war. She simply seemed to be trying to shed a bit of light in the room.

Raven used her power to open the blinds blocking the light from the room, just a crack, and the ball of energy around the stranger's hand vanished. "Who are you?" Raven demanded as the woman lowered her hood, revealing the face of a thin, youthful woman with long blood red hair and spooky blue eyes. Raven looked away as these eyes stared into her own, crossing a line of privacy that Raven didn't wish to cross. Instead, she focused on the purple chakra that graced the strange woman's forehead.

"Your Third Eye chakra point…" Raven spoke softly, forgetting that the other woman hadn't yet introduced herself. "It isn't tainted…" her finger strayed and almost touched the small gem as she spoke, stopping millimetres away from the glimmering ornament.

A sad look flickered across the woman's face as her eyes raked across Raven's forehead, and after a moment, she gave a response to Raven's demand. "I am called Dracona," she said and Raven frowned at her suspiciously, finally feeling a tiny piece of power that she hadn't felt moments before, but knew had to have been there because of the ball the woman had produced. When it erupted into a greater energy signature, Raven was shocked.

"You – you have…" she faltered, realising that her accusation could be considered extremely insulting if she was incorrect. When Dracona simply smiled at her however, Raven realised she had no qualms with saying it. "You have demon blood!" The other woman nodded and those spooky eyes became a momentary solid white before changing back to their blue. Raven shivered, knowing that it had only been a display of a shred of power – she'd felt the energy from the other surge incredibly, but not to its peak – and it made her comprehend just what the other was. A full demon, not a simple half-blood like Raven was.

"Why are you here?" Raven asked finally. "Does your appearance here have anything to do with my dream?" It took her a moment to say it, but it was something she felt she had to ask. This Dracona wouldn't have appeared without a reason.

"So you _did_ have the dream? Good. I thought you would have, but of course, being the youngest of my colleagues… They didn't believe me," Dracona was still shaking her head when she pulled a folded up piece of parchment from an inside pocket of her cloak. Raven took it as it was offered to her, frowning at it curiously as she broke the seal (a large 'H' in black wax) and unfolded it.

The first thing that caught her eye was the large and colourful crest depicting four animals – a lion, a snake, an eagle and a badger – along with the words 'Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus.' Raven frowned at the words a moment, translating them in her mind, and then laughed. "Never tickle a sleeping dragon? An interesting choice in motto…" she murmured. Dracona's silvery laugh joined for a moment before she gestured from Raven to begin reading.

_Dear Miss Roth,_

_Although we have never before met, I have to say that your reputation – and blood line – precedes you. As you may already be aware, the demon Trigon has made a pact with the most terrible dark wizard of our world. It is our understanding that you have had experience in dealing with this monster, and it is due to your experience that I address this letter to you with an exclamation of dire urgency. We require your assistance to rid our world of this fiend. However, I can understand any reluctance you may have to lend your skill, and so I offer you an invitation._

_Though you are probably not aware of it, I am the Headmistress of a school called Hogwarts. Located in the Scottish Highlands, we are an academy which works to teach young witches and wizards the ways of controlling and properly using their powers. So, I invite you to share in this learning – though I have no doubts about the extent of your abilities – primarily as a way to remain in an 'undercover' state._

_Dracona can answer any questions you may have concerning Hogwarts, as she has recently joined our teaching staff herself. She will also assist you in the gathering of any supplies you may need if you should decide to join us, something which I plead you to do._

_I leave the fate of our world in your hands, and hope that you choose to follow the path which would assist us in this time of dire need._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Headmistress, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Raven blinked at the letter for a few moments before turning her eyes back to Dracona and letting the contents of the letter sink in. For them to actually send her a note like this was surprising. No one – especially those who knew her background – ever allowed her to stay at their place of residence, let alone extend an invitation to her. An odd smile extended across Dracona's face as Raven nodded in a way that was almost acceptance.

"A school of sorcery?" Raven asked, though she didn't doubt the validity, nor the origin of the request. It wasn't a hoax – not with a messenger like Dracona. Still, it was one of those things that seemed almost too good to be true. After all, this meant that there were a whole bunch of people like her, living in one building and learning nothing other than… magic.

Dracona nodded, "Of course, they're humans with magic running through their veins, nothing more. But their magic is incredibly flexible, which is the primary reason I took a job there. It would be good for you, Raven." Raven frowned at her and contemplated the idea. She'd be able to do more with her powers, and they'd probably expand greatly if she were to accept. However, she'd also have to deal with Trigon and his minions, which wasn't really a great incentive to look forward to, and not something she felt like dealing with again. And she'd also be abandoning the team… Though they wouldn't be short a member because Terra would be there, and unless Terra betrayed them again, they'd be more than suited to take care of the city without her assistance… So why not?

"How soon do you need my answer?" Raven asked. Dracona only shrugged, something Raven interpreted as information she hadn't been given.

"Minerva only said that, if you accepted, she'd like me to bring you to Hogwarts before the 31st of August," the woman supplied after a moment. Raven's brow creased in contemplation. That gave her exactly a month to make up her mind, and though it seemed like a long time, she knew that it wouldn't be with this decision weighing on her chest. She sat down on the edge of the bed and expelled a deep breath.

"I have to talk to my team mates first," Raven said finally, carefully hiding her relief at Dracona's understanding nod. "But… Unless you have something more dire to attend to, you're more than welcome to remain here until I've made my decision." She added, for Dracona had turned as if to leave, and while Raven was unsure what had pressed her to say it, she figured that having Dracona – someone like her – around would make it easier to deal with Terra.

The woman turned back to face her, "You're sure?" she asked as she raised the hood of her black cloak around her face. Raven nodded, and was about to speak again when a loud knock sounded at the door.

"Raven? Breakfast's ready and I lost again…" came Beast Boy's voice from the other side of the door. Raven could practically feel Dracona's perplexed expression as the woman stared at the door.

"Sure, Beast Boy… I'll be there in a minute," Raven responded. Footsteps were heard leaving the threshold and Raven gestured for Dracona to follow her from the room. "Beast Boy losing the daily breakfast battle means that we won't be eating tofu." She answered to the unspoken question. Dracona's response was that silvery laugh that once again sent a shiver down Raven's spine. The sound was a reminder that, however kind and human-like she was, Dracona was a demoness, and Raven had no idea where her loyalties lay.

"They're going to wonder where I came from," Dracona murmured as they neared the main room of Titan's Tower. Raven replied with a bored shrug and made a gesture for the other woman to lower her hood. Sure, the team would jump to conclusions, but seeing the face of their cloaked intruder would make them less likely to _act_ on these conclusions. However, she noticed the reluctance with which Dracona did as she'd been instructed. A reluctance Raven understood – Dracona would have felt more in control of the situation, had her hood been up and her face hidden. However, without this advantage, she was open to the mercy of Robin and the team. Dracona wasn't weak though – she'd manage.

Starfire was the first to look up when they entered the kitchen. Her eyes stared past Raven to watch the newcomer, and she grinned after a moment.

"Glorious!" she exclaimed, bringing the entire team's attention to Dracona and Raven. Raven was impressed at the way the older woman was able to simply smile and the way she didn't hesitate before taking a seat at the table which would place her between Raven and Cyborg.

A quick glance around the table told Raven that the team was looking from her to Dracona, clearly waiting to be introduced, and the calculating expression on Robin's face told her he wanted to know more than the stranger's name.

"Uhh… This is Dracona," Raven said finally. Beast Boy tilted his head as Terra (who was seated next to him) whispered something in his ear. Whatever it had been, it made him grin and address Dracona. Before the words had left his mouth, Raven knew it would be something stupid that would end up embarrassing her more than it would embarrass him.

"You've got the same… uhh… what was that thing called again?" he pointed at Dracona's chakra as reference. "Anyway, you've got the same forehead thingy as Raven. Except it's a different colour and –" Raven's powers lashed out, spreading a black gag across Beast Boy's lips and giving him a piercing glare. She looked to Dracona apologetically, only to find her smiling slightly.

"Beast Boy?" she questioned Raven, who nodded agreement before turning to finish the introductions.

"Starfire, Cyborg, Terra and our leader, Robin," Raven recited, gesturing to each Titan in turn. Dracona nodded to each as they acknowledged her, and then turned to Raven.

"Perhaps I should leave and wait to hear your answer?" the woman suggested in a low voice that Raven was sure was only intended for her ears, though something flickered in Cyborg's human eye that implied he'd heard and was trying to comprehend. In response, Raven gave a non-committal shrug. She'd _like_ for the woman to stay around in case she thought of any questions, but knew that Dracona wasn't likely to if she felt threatened.

"It's fine, I'll deal with them," Raven replied in a tone that rivalled the lowness of Dracona's. She turned back to her team mates with a bland expression on her face, though it was carefully schooled to be threatening, yet non-provocative. The team tended to think twice about bothering her when she wore this face, and it didn't fail her this time either. They quickly turned back to their breakfasts, but Raven couldn't stop the glances they kept shooting Dracona as the demoness picked at a sausage she'd put on her plate.

Robin cornered them in the hall as they made to leave after breakfast, despite the glare Raven gave him – the glare didn't usually work on Robin anyway, and definitely not when he wanted something. She stared at him as he – somehow – managed to place himself between her and Dracona without seeming to actually move at all. His masked eyes seemed to take in the woman – whom, Raven suddenly realised, probably stood at almost Cyborg's height. Maybe she was trying to be imposing? Raven could have _sworn_ Dracona hadn't been that tall before.

"Explain," he said, turning to Raven. She glanced at Dracona, who nodded her silent permission for Raven to explain the world she'd been introduced to that morning – and the dilemma she was now faced with.

"Dracona appeared to me this morning with a plea from Britain. It appears that my father is once again trying to rule – or end – the world," Raven watched as Robin's face contorted worriedly, but continued speaking. "I've been asked to assist in getting rid of my father, and have, at the same time been invited to enrol as a student at a school of witchcraft and wizardry." She studied Robin's features as he nodded slowly.

"Are you going to go?" he asked softly. The question took Raven by surprise, but she didn't have a chance to reply because he was already asking another question. "And how do you tie into all of this?" he asked, addressing Dracona. A secretive smile crossed the woman's lips.

"I teach Transfiguration at Hogwarts, or I will this coming September anyway. The Headmistress sent me to deliver her letter to Raven because it had been I who had recognized the description of the demon Trigon," she explained. Raven frowned. That meant that Dracona hadn't had the dream herself. Whose dream had it been then? She opened her mouth to ask, but Robin was once again asking his own questions.

"Transfiguration? And how did you recognize Trigon's description? _Who are you?_" Raven blinked at the onslaught of questions, and turned her gaze to Dracona, who accepted each with a nod and gentle smile.

"For Transfiguration, a visual display," she said, and with a flourish of her hand drew a thin black wand and a small cough candy from the folds of her cloak. Holding the wand delicately in her right hand, she balanced the candy in her left and smiled at them before waving her wand over the candy. There was a popping sound, and the candy had been replaced by a small white mouse that sniffed and scurried in circles around Dracona's palm. The demoness smiled again and waved her wand back across the mouse with a slightly different movement, changing it back into it's original cough candy form.

"Simple, but good for a demonstration. Now, you ask who I am, and how I know of Trigon." When Robin nodded confirmation, Dracona sighed dramatically. "Firstly, what Raven discovered not quarter of an hour into our conversation this morning. I know of Trigon because I am a blooded demoness of the Seraphlin clan, and we inhabit the same realm." A look of irony crossed her features at this, and Raven shook her head with a wry laugh. It was no wonder Dracona's magic was so strong and pure – her ancestors were the descendants of Trigon's exact opposites. Purity that hadn't been tainted once in over a thousand years. Raven gnashed her teeth and grumbled to herself. It wasn't fair.

"Blooded demoness?" Robin asked blandly, though there was an edge of confusion to his tone. Raven grimaced as Dracona's face took on an almost aggravated expression at her leader's lack of knowledge, and quickly moved to respond.

"A blooded demon or demoness is another name for a demon or demoness of pure blood heritage who has been accepted into their clan as a candidate for leadership," she explained quickly while raising an eyebrow at Dracona. It was almost unheard of for a blooded clan member to leave the safety of their clan lodgings, even for a day. Unless of course, Dracona had been _sent_ to deal with the Trigon problem…

Robin was nodding in acceptance of the explanation and, seemingly satisfied, he turned back to Raven. "Are you going to go?" he prompted again. Raven sighed warily.

"Would you allow it?" she asked softly, glancing at Dracona to find that the woman was no longer any taller than herself. That was interesting.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Robin nodding his head and spun to stare at him, "You're serious?" she exclaimed, a tendril of black energy shooting from her chakra at her uncharacteristic exclamation.

Robin shrugged, "The team should be fine, and I can tell how much this would mean to you…" he trailed off and she felt a true smile spread across her features. The first true smile she'd shown in quite a while, she knew.

"Thank you," she said, though it came out as barely more than a grateful whisper. Robin simply nodded before turning and walking down the hall, throwing a simple 'tell us when you're leaving' over his shoulder as he left.

* * *

I wasn't sure what else to say to explain the colour of Raven's chakra, except this. So I basically made it in a way that it's Trigon's evil that causes Raven's chakra to be red instead of violet. Violet is, of course, the spiritual colour of the Third Eye forehead chakra point.

_Author's Corner_

So ends the first chapter of Harry Potter and the Demon's Wrath. Harry will, of course, come into play in the next chapter, which is actually finished and just needs to be typed up. Expect it sometime next week.

Until then----


	2. Hidden Meanings

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Titans, nor do I own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the two. Teen Titans is © of DC Comics, Harry Potter is © of J.K. Rowling, and Warner Brothers holds © over both of them.

**Author's Warning:** This is a crossover fic. :Watches people close the window.: Ahem. Those of you who do not like crossovers may leave now. The rest of you, I invite to continue on… _Note – Story contains major HBP spoilers_.

**Summary:** Trigon has returned, and Voldemort has joined him as a minion. Drawn by strange dreams, Raven must involve herself in the problems of others, including one Harry Potter, who is once again being plagued by strange dreams. This year at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends are going to be pitted against their most difficult task yet. Destroying a force that even the Dark Lord himself fears won't be easy…

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Demon's Wrath or; Year Seven and Negative One-Fourth**

_Chapter 2 – Hidden Meanings_

Harry grumbled moodily to himself as he stared at the empty canvas that normally housed Phineas Nigellus from where he sat at the edge of the bed in his newly adopted room at number 12 Grimmauld Place. The Order was meeting in the refurbished dining room somewhere below him, and he'd been ordered to remain in his room after trying to discover what they'd been speaking about. It annoyed him to no end, being forced to stay out of their way when he _knew_ they would be discussing him.

He had to admit though, he felt sorry for Lupin. The man had somehow gotten stuck with trying to calm Harry down after his admittance had been refused, and so, he'd had to contend with not only Harry's initial outburst, but also with Harry's anger afterward. In pained him to remember what had been a one-sided shouting match, because Lupin hadn't deserved any of it. But at the same time, he was thinking about it because it was the foremost thing in his mind. And the only thing that wasn't utterly painful to think of.

He'd been sitting at the scrubbed wooden table of Grimmauld Place's kitchen, just finishing breakfast when he noticed that there were more Order members filing through the door and entering the dining room than was usual. It hadn't been until Mad-Eye had shown up (the newly instated head of the Order) that Harry had realised what was going on. The Order was having a meeting that hadn't been previously announced.

Having come of age that day, Harry had figured that there'd be no possible way that the Order could deny him access to the meeting. He _was _the Boy-Who-Lived after all. Unfortunately, he'd been mistaken. It appeared that the Order didn't feel the need to chance their admittance rules for anyone. Harry, while of age, was still set to return to Hogwarts in September. So the Order had ruled that there was no way Harry could attend the meeting, and he'd been told sternly, yet politely, to stay in his room until the meeting was over.

"You want me to do _WHAT_?" he recalled bellowing at none other than an audience of Professor McGonagall, Molly Weasley and Remus Lupin. "I'm 17. I'm of age to join. What does it matter that I'm still in school?" He'd wished Sirius had been there to back him up then – he knew that his godfather would have realised how much Harry's addition to the Order would help them. But Sirius wasn't there, and none of the three adults he was face with bent near as easily.

"It's just that, Potter. The Order doesn't allow students in. It's dangerous being a member, and students who haven't finished school simply haven't learned enough," McGonagall had said in a tone that was almost gentle. However, Harry thought that it had been the wrong thing for her to say, and it appeared that Lupin, at least, recognised that. A ghastly look had appeared on the Marauder's face as she'd spoken.

Harry's response had been a spiteful laugh. He'd been looking after himself in dangerous situations since his first year at Hogwarts, and she thought that he couldn't defend himself? "Right. I'll keep that in mind the next time I'm surrounded by Death Eaters with Voldemort standing in the wings," he began in a calm, but heavily sarcastic tone, as he turned to address an invisible Death Eater. "Sorry, but you'll have to wait to attack me until I'm out of Hogwarts. You see, your routine attacks against me haven't been considered dangerous for the past six years, and until I graduate, I won't have the skills to fight you off. So, could you please leave me alone?"

He'd turned back to the three adults to find them looking at him without any trace of amusement in their features, and that was when both Molly and McGonagall had looked at Lupin before walking away, leaving the man to persuade Harry. Lupin had sighed and a forced smile had wearily spread across his exhausted features.

"Now I suppose you're going to tell me to be a good boy and go sit quietly in my room," he'd growled. Lupin had simply shrugged in response.

"I'd like to, but I know that you won't listen to me," he replied. "So, I'll make a better deal. If you do what Professor McGonagall has asked, I'll tell you all that happened in the meeting." He'd then paused and Harry had been about to come back with a sarcastic response, but Lupin must have caught it because he quickly added, "Whether I'm allowed to or not. Are we in agreement, Harry?" Lupin's tone had held nothing but kindness, but Harry'd already let himself become incensed and hadn't wanted to back down without a fight.

"They have no right to talk about me and my dreams while I'm not there!" he'd retorted angrily. Lupin's reaction had been to put a hand to his forehead in a gesture that was halfway between surrender and annoyance. It was a gesture that told Harry his predictions about what the meeting would be discussing were true – he'd only been guessing at it before. They'd be discussing the dream he'd had a few nights previous. Which meant that it really wasn't anything he didn't know anyway (though he thought it would make more sense for him to be there to be consulted.)

But he'd eventually given in and left the Order alone, leaving Lupin to go to the meeting and himself to sit alone in his bedroom and stare at the wall while he wondered what had made him return to Grimmauld Place in the first place. His eyes swept across a room that was no longer dreary. Instead, it was well kept and cheering. The large, four-poster bed was draped in gold and had a large scarlet bedspread, complemented by pillows in gold and with touches of a regal shade of deep violet. The rest of the room mimicked the bed in colour, with heavy draperies in red velvet (pulled back from the windows to let the late July sun shine in) and a small couch and chair, both upholstered in scarlet fabric with gold trim. When Harry had finally decided to move into the house, he'd decided that it needed new décor, and there had been many Order members willing to assist.

Needless to say, number 12 Grimmauld Place had since taken on a very 'Potterish' feel, as Lupin had put it. Harry supposed that it was this feel that made him fully enjoy it. They'd managed to remove most of the traces of the corrupt Black family line, save for some things that Harry kept as his reminders of Sirius; a few photographs and some of the Black family heirlooms that his godfather _hadn't_ despised. As for the rest of the house, photos of the young Lily and James Potter covered the walls (they'd even managed to replace the shrieking Mrs. Black with a silent, muggle portrait from the Potter's wedding) and mingled among these were photographs of Hermione and Ron, as well as some of their other classmates at Hogwarts. One who had never been there before would find it hard to believe that number 12 Grimmauld Place had been grim and grimy only a couple of weeks prior.

He was satisfied with it, and was glad, because there wasn't much more they could do to change it. And with the Order coming in and out all the time, he hadn't been left lonely. He found it nice to have the constant trickle of company – after all, the house _was _a little large for him to stay in alone. He doubted that he'd be allowed to stay alone anyway – everyone's paranoia and need to keep him 'safe' had multiplied ten-fold since Dumbledore had been killed.

He mumbled wordlessly to himself at this thought. Dumbledore gone. It had been hard for the wizarding world to accept – indeed, the _Prophet_ was still publishing opinionated articles that suggested he wasn't gone at all, and the latest issue of the _Quibbler_ had suggested that Albus Dumbledore's snowy white coffin had actually been a vortex that had teleported him forward one hundred years. For the Order though, Dumbledore's death was harsh reality. Their founder and leader was gone, and they'd actually been fairly lost for a while, until McGonagall had declared that Mad-Eye was to take over the position, by will of Professor Dumbledore.

He sighed, and his wordless mumbling went from being out of thought, to being out of sheer boredom as he swung his legs over the side of his bed with the intention of going down to the kitchen for something to eat. However, he'd only reached the threshold of the closed door before he heard voices in the hall. One, he recognised as being Professor McGonagall's; the other he was sure he'd never heard before.

"- sure that she'll have no problems with coming? Does she know why she had the dream?" McGonagall was asking her companion as Harry cracked the door open just wide enough to catch a glimpse of a youthful figure in a fancy purple fringed, black cloak.

"I don't believe so. She'll have to meet him, and then we'll see…" the strange woman – whom, Harry realised, could scarcely be more than six or seven years his senior – said softly as McGonagall shook her head. Harry had to strain his ears to catch the next part, as McGonagall clearly knew which part of the house they were walking through.

"I don't want Potter to have any more interaction with her than would be natural once they're at the school. We've been trying to keep him away from the Order, because of the nature of the subjects we've been discussing and this would only lead him closer to it…" she trailed off, shaking her head in a manner he saw as being helpless.

The stranger laughed, a sharp, silvery sound that made Harry shiver. "It'll be fine, Minerva. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've been invited to a pizza and movie night." She grinned at the bewildered expression on the Headmistress' features before disappearing in a swirl of eerie lavender power that Harry had to blink off of his retina's as he closed the door.

So McGonagall was trying to keep him away from the Order. Well, that was old news (though he wondered why she was trying so hard). But who was this strange woman? It was obvious that she and Professor McGonagall were on good terms with each other – not many were on a first name basis with the stern Headmistress – which was curious enough in itself. Worse, was that they actually knew something about his dream that they were doing a very good job of keeping from him. And, they knew someone who sounded like they were feeding the Order information that wasn't being shared with him.

He groaned and flopped backward onto his bed with an angry shake of his head that caused his glasses to go crooked on his nose. His hand brushed across his scar as he fixed them and he was reminded of that morning only a few days ago when he'd woken up with his scar pulsing with a stabbing, head-splitting pain. It had been over a year since he'd been last plagued with scar pains, and it had come as a shock – he'd woken up screaming, surrounded by an audience of Mr and Mrs Weasley, Lupin and, unfortunately, Kreacher.

After telling Kreacher to get out, and assuring Mr Weasley and Lupin that he was fine, he'd been left with Mrs Weasley. He'd expected her to leave after once again verifying that he was alright, but she'd surprised him by taking him into a gentle hug, and slowly rubbing his back as he relaxed into the mother-like embrace. (Only mother-like, because she wasn't actually his mother. Though he supposed that she _was_ the closest to ever come to that position…) But Harry had been utterly shocked at the familiarity of the contact. He'd received hugs from Mrs Weasley before, but somehow, this had been different, and not something he was able to explain to himself.

Harry scrubbed a hand across his forehead and stood, leaving the room before any other memories could stop him. The Order meeting should have ended by now, and he _was_ hungry, seeing as it was nearly evening and he hadn't actually eaten anything since breakfast. He was also looking forward to what Lupin would have to tell him.

He wasn't, however, expecting the squeal, nor the exclamation of 'There you are, Harry!' that he received upon entry to the kitchen. It did work to chase away all of the worries and memories plaguing him though, as he viewed his two best friends sitting at the table. He gave Ginny (who had been the one to squeal) a friendly hug and a kiss on the forehead as she came up to him, and duly noted that Ron had an arm wrapped around Hermione in a manner too friendly too be casual.

As he sat down at the table, Ginny beside him, his eyes picked up on the worries looks the three were giving him. He flicked his wand and sandwiches appeared on the table with small plates, and, though everyone began eating, the worried looks remained.

"What?" he asked finally. His voice must have been harsher than he'd intended, because the three of them winced. Ron and Ginny quickly averted their eyes (Ron's ears turned red), but Hermione wasn't deterred as easily.

"Lupin told us about your argument with Professor McGonagall. You _knew_ they wouldn't let you in the Order, Harry," she said bluntly, and in one of her lecturing tones. Ron shook his head with a grimace as Harry glared at Hermione.

"You're supposed to be on my side," he replied patronizingly. Hermione coloured faintly but shrugged as she reached for another piece of sandwich. Harry grumbled and closed his eyes for a brief moment, once again scrubbing his hand across his forehead, pain a vivid memory in his mind.

"Harry?" Hermione asked in a worried tone at the same time as Ginny asked, "Are you alright?" in much the same tone. Harry began nodding, then hesitated. They deserved to know about the dream, since it was doubtful that anyone else was going to tell them. They deserved to know, but they also tended to over-react at the slightest twinge of his scar. They'd probably be worse now that it hadn't happened in over a year.

"Fine," he replied, averting his eyes. He couldn't escape from the scrutinizing gaze of Hermione's deep brown eyes though.

"You're being evasive. What aren't you telling us?" she demanded gently. Harry sighed and looked back at her, briefly meeting her questioning eyes before quickly looking away again.

"I woke up with my scar burning a few days ago, after a nightmare," he said shortly and in a voice completely devoid of emotion. Hermione stood and walked over to sit beside him as Ron sat straight up.

Harry soon found himself discussing every detail of the dream, from Voldemort's annoyance over Harry still being alive, to the pact made between Voldemort and the creature who seemed to be nothing more than two pairs of disembodied, floating red eyes. Red eyes that even Voldemort bowed to.

Hermione was gripping one of his hands tightly in both of hers, and barely waited until the end of the recount to begin speaking. When she did, her voice was tense and heavily coated in worry.

"Harry. We're not just dealing with _Him_ anymore, are we? If _He_ was bowing…" she trailed off as Harry returned the hand squeeze before shaking off her death grip and standing.

"No we're not, and I'm aware of that. But the Order doesn't seem to think that I'm deserving of the conclusions they've come to," he quickly explained the conversation he'd overheard, only to receive shaking heads in response.

"She had connections to someone who knows something about your dream? Well, it shouldn't be too hard to find this girl if they're going to be at Hogwarts, should it?" Hermione said matter-of-factly, and in a manner that wasn't questioning at all. Ron raised an eyebrow sceptically.

"How do you figure? There are hundreds of students at Hogwarts, even without the ones who aren't going to come back with Dumbledore gone," Ron said blandly, though he sounded confused.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Isn't it obvious? She'll be a new student, and probably not a first year. Maybe a Slytherin with such obvious connections to the dark side, but not necessarily…" she trailed off and frowned. "But I didn't think Hogwarts let in students after first year. They never have before," she sounded perplexed with this last point, but otherwise, she made plenty of sense.

"So we're looking for a student we've never met before… Think she'll be sorted with the shrimps?" Ron asked. Hermione reached across the table and smacked him lightly on the back of the head. "What?" he asked, rubbing the spot where she'd hit him.

"Don't call them that," Hermione scolded. Harry and Ginny laughed, and both received scorning glares from Ron as Hermione's eyes took on a thinking glaze for a moment before she blinked. "And I think they'll probably sort her before hand. McGonagall won't want to bring any more attention to someone like that than is necessary."

Harry nodded. It all made sense, but it would make his life a lot easier if this mystery person was just sorted along with the new students. He'd know exactly who it was who knew more about this villain than the Order, and would hopefully find out everything McGonagall knew and more.

"Think she'll be in our year?" Harry asked hopefully. Hermione simply shrugged and shook her head.

"We have no way of knowing. Though it would make finding her easier, don't get your hopes up, Harry. This mystery girl could be any age, and we haven't taken into consideration that it might be a new teacher." Hermione replied.

Harry frowned at that. It was true, in the snatch of conversation he'd caught, neither McGonagall nor the mystery person had made any mention toward the age of the person they were discussing. But Ron was suddenly enthused with the conversation.

"It'd make sense after having Snape, wouldn't it? Having someone who knows a lot about what we're up against and is on our side and willing to teach us ways to fight the red-eyes thing?" He sounded almost excited at the prospect, and Harry pondered on it for a moment. He'd thought, originally, that maybe the strange woman he'd seen McGonagall with could have possibly been the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. After all, it was once again a post that would need to be filled. But Ron also brought up a good point. Maybe the person theyhad been discussing would be a teacher.

"Ron, we have no idea where the loyalties of this unknown person lie, no more than we know where the loyalties of Professor McGonagall's strange friend lie," she scolded. Ron nodded, quickly chastised, and Harry realised that it was true. McGonagall had trusted Snape as well, and they all knew what had happened there.

Ginny, who had been very quiet up until now, stood and crossed the room to stand in front of him. When he raised a sceptical eyebrow, she rose on her toes and gave him a whisper of a kiss (Ron cringed). "If she's that close to McGonagall, there has to be a spec of goodness in her. Sure, McGonagall's no Dumbledore but…" she trailed off and touched Harry's hand, sighing when he pulled away and shook his head. Maybe it was best that McGonagall wasn't another Dumbledore. Hadn't Dumbledore been deluded by his weakness to see the best in people? McGonagall wouldn't make that mistake.

"I want to find out who she is, and who the person they're consulting is," Harry replied, moving back toward the table and bracing against it.

"And we _will_ Harry, but we can't until we get to Hogwarts," Hermione said reasonably. Harry nodded blandly, knowing it was true. If she was ever going to tell him what was going on, McGonagall would wait until they were within the safety of the Hogwarts walls on September the First. Hoping for information before then was pointless.

They spent the next few moments in silence. The discussion was closed, and Harry was working it slowly over in his mind. He didn't really know anything more than he had that day when he'd described his dream to Lupin. But he had the hope that they'd be able to find something out when they returned to Hogwarts. If only the end of the summer would hurry up and come.

* * *

A week later, Harry was just as impatient and no closer to find anything out – Lupin hadn't told him anything he hadn't known before. The Order – other than Lupin – were still being tight-lipped and refusing any attempts at entry that he, Ron and Hermione made. His waiting wasn't all for nothing though, he realised as he and Ron entered the kitchen for a late lunch that afternoon. The woman that Professor McGonagall had been speaking to a week prior was sitting at the table, nodding to something Lupin was saying to her.

She looked up at Harry entered the room and he found himself stumbling to a halt as his eyes met her haunting blue ones. Ron muttered something Harry couldn't quite catch as he rammed into the raven haired boy's back at the sudden stop. The woman pretended not to notice Harry's shock though, and gestured with a delicate hand for he and Ron to join her and Lupin at the table. Harry accepted the invitation, forgetting that it was, in fact, his house, and slipped into a spot as Ron thudded down beside him.

"Good afternoon, Harry," she said pleasantly. Harry nodded in response and Ron did the same after receiving much the same greeting. Neither of them asked how this woman had known their names. It also came as no surprise (to him at least) that she was far more interested in Harry than she was Ron. He wasn't sure that Ron noticed though. The woman, though seemingly paying equal attention to both of them, was, in reality, looking only at him.

"If Minerva were here, she'd likely call this favouritism but…" the woman shrugged and smiled. "I thought that, since we're going to be seeing a lot of each other over the next year, that I would introduce myself." She stood suddenly and Harry's eyes took in a petite woman wearing robes of a midnight blue shade which peaked out from beneath the light material of her black cloak – the same purple-fringed one that Harry had glimpsed her wearing before. His eyes also latched onto the small violet gemstone that sat nestled between her eyebrows, but he didn't mention it. He was too busy wondering how such a pretty, diminutive young woman could have such a dominating – and almost sinister – presence.

Of course, she hadn't stood for examination, and had once again begun to speak. "My name is Dracona Seraphlin. I've been employed as your Professor of Transfiguration for this year. I'll also be taking on the position of the Gryffindor Head of House, which I believe affects the two of you?"

Harry fought inward disappointment at the announcement that she'd be teaching Transfiguration and not Defence Against the Dark Arts as he'd hoped. (He'd forgotten that Transfiguration was also a post that needed to be filled). She looked like the type who'd be able to properly teach the class, in a way that he deemed the proper way – with practical lessons. But perhaps she'd be a less strict head of house? He supposed that only time would tell, but wondered if Hermione had already met her and already knew all of this.

"Yeah, we're Gryffindors," Ron was saying proudly. "But – If you're a new teacher, how'd you end up head of house?" he asked with an eyebrow raised. The woman – Professor Seraphlin, Harry supposed – shrugged in response.

"No one wanted the position I suppose," she replied, "I don't mind though. It's more interaction with the students this way." She smiled and Harry found himself nodding in time with Ron. She wouldn't be bad as a teacher, nor as a head of house, definitely not. She was polite, and had a strangely calming and gentle presence beneath the initial dominating demeanour.

She'd sat back down to continue her conversation with Lupin before he'd realised it, and Harry gestured for Ron to follow him from the room at this obvious sign that the conversation was over. Ron met him in the hall a moment later.

"Is that the one that was talking to McGonagall, mate?" Ron asked. At Harry's nod, the freckled boy frowned. "She seems nice enough, and would probably be willing to talk to you if you asked her. Maybe that's why she's Head of Gryffindor? It's make sense, wouldn't it?"

Harry stared at Ron a moment before nodding. He hadn't thought of it, but it made a lot of sense. If Professor Seraphlin knew about his dream, and wanted to talk to him about it, then being his head of house would make that easy. No one would question her wanting to speak with him privately if that were the case.

"Yeah. It'd make sense. But we need to speak with Hermione, come on," Harry grabbed Ron's arm and dragged him away from the kitchen door where he was trying to peer back in, and was dragging him up the stairs and toward Hermione's room, ignoring all protests. "Hermione!" Harry exclaimed once they stood on the threshold of her room. He knocked on the door and it opened to reveal Hermione, a book in her hand and a questioning look on her face.

"She's downstairs," Harry said in response to the look as he and Ron filed into the room. Hermione closed the door and raised an eyebrow at him as she sat her book on her bed. "The woman I saw talking to McGonagall. She's downstairs with Lupin." He clarified.

Hermione nodded, "Did you talk to her?" she asked.

"Yeah, and she knew who we were. She's Transfiguration teacher and new Head of Gryffindor. Name's… something Seraphlin," Ron explained quickly.

"Dracona, she said her first name was," Harry filled in quickly. Hermione blinked and shrugged, the look on her face stating her answer before she did.

"I've never heard of her," she replied, holding her hands open and shaking her head in a helpless gesture. "Did she say anything about the dream?" she asked. Harry shook his head.

"Nothing. Only introduced herself," though he wished she _had_ said something about that damned dream. Maybe explained it to him and cleared everything up, but that would've made his life easier, and no one seemed to want to do that lately.

Hermione sighed dramatically. "Well, I'm sure we'll find out more about it eventually. I haven't found anything in these old books though…" she trailed off and gestured hopelessly at the piles of books that cluttered the room. Indeed, it appeared that she'd gathered up every book in 12 Grimmauld Place to look through. "I need the Hogwarts library. I'm sure there's something there _somewhere_." She said.

Harry nodded, "Thanks Hermione," he said gratefully. He was determined to find out more about this dream even if he had to discover it for himself. Though he secretly hoped that it wouldn't come to that. He hated to admit it, but he was fairly lazy when it came to research.

"You're welcome. Now, come and help me look," she gestured at the pile of books, obviously ones that she hadn't touched yet. "You too, Ron," she added when he tried to slip away. With Ron's dramatic sigh that cleared the love-struck from his face, they began looking through the books.

* * *

_To My Reviewers…_

JeffHiggs – Thanks so much And it'll definitely be Raven only. I've read other HP/TT crossovers and was never quite able to understand how they could have the other Titans using magic so…

_Author's Corner_

Yes! I got the chapter up quickly. I'm not sure when the next will be up though. It's about… A third of the way finished, so I'd say one can expect it to be up sometime next week. I suppose that's what I'll try for… A new chapter every week…

Until then ---

* * *

Completed – Sept. 5/2005 


	3. Secrets

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Titans, nor do I own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the two. Teen Titans is © of DC Comics, Harry Potter is © of J.K. Rowling, and Warner Brothers holds © over both of them.

**Author's Warning:** This is a crossover fic. :Watches people close the window.: Ahem. Those of you who do not like crossovers may leave now. The rest of you, I invite to continue on… _Note – Story contains major HBP spoilers_.

**Summary:** Trigon has returned, and Voldemort has joined him as a minion. Drawn by strange dreams, Raven must involve herself in the problems of others, including one Harry Potter, who is once again being plagued by strange dreams. This year at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends are going to be pitted against their most difficult task yet. Destroying a force that even the Dark Lord himself fears won't be easy…

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Demon's Wrath or; Year Seven and Negative One-Fourth**

_Chapter 3 – Secrets_

Raven focused across the table at the papers Dracona was writing on. It appeared that the woman was writing some sort of a plan for _something_, though Raven hadn't the faintest idea what it was, nor did she think it her business enough to ask. She supposed that it really couldn't be anything out of the ordinary – the woman _was_ a teacher after all – save for Dracona's choice of writing utensil.

She was using a large black quill – a crow feather, if Raven wasn't mistaken – and had a small well of purple ink sitting next to her. The ink glimmered on the page in a flowery hand, and only stayed wet for moments before drying into the parchment she wrote on. Convenient. But it wasn't that Raven was quite surprised either – she'd used quill and ink pot when writing on Azarath – however, it brought back memories from her childhood that she detested dwelling upon.

"Are you alright?" Memories that got her so involved with trying to block them from her mind and forget them that she jumped when Dracona addressed her. Her eyes spun wildly as they focused on the demoness who sat across the table, a concerned expression on her face. She'd laid her quill down, placed the stopper into the small jar of ink, and was gathering the parchment together and rolling it into tight tubes. She tapped each with her wand to seal it as she went, though her eyes were trained on Raven the entire time.

Raven began nodding slowly, then sighed and changed it to a negative gesture when she saw that Dracona wasn't being fooled. "The team wishing me well… Letting me go so easily… It doesn't make sense to me. There wasn't even a fight put up by Robin…" she trailed off and sighed again when Dracona furrowed her eyebrows, clearly confused.

"They care for you, Raven, and they want you to be happy," she said, moving her hand to cover Raven's. The lavender haired girl gasped silently at the strange feeling of warmth that spread from Dracona. Warmth and pure, raging power that made Raven draw her hand back quickly from Dracona, feeling, quite literally, as if she'd just been burned. Dracona's eyes had widened at whatever she'd felt from Raven, and had drawn her hand back just as quickly. Violet eyes met pale blue in a silent understanding of something they'd not try again. It appeared that their energies were too different for a physical connection.

"Cyborg has tried to leave a few times – succeeded, actually – and Robin always put up a fight in those cases," Raven replied, tone schooled in such a way that it betrayed nothing she'd felt only a few seconds prior.

Dracona nodded understanding, "But you aren't planning on leaving permanently," she replied persuasively, "You'll return in a year, and Robin knows that." Raven's doubt must have shone on her face, because Dracona let out an exclamation of utter frustration. "You're an Empath, girl!" she exclaimed. "Surely you can tell how much they love you!" She was clearly annoyed, and Raven glared at her in a way meant to be menacing, though it only brought a grin to Dracona's features.

"You're right…" Raven said finally, sounding defeated and deflated in her own ears. Dracona nodded happily and swept one hand across the table. Tendrils of lilac energy wrapped around the scrolls and sent them flying into a satchel that sat on the floor against Dracona's chair.

"Far more convenient then that damned stick," she muttered, more to herself than Raven. Raven laughed softly, and was favoured with Dracona's frown in response. "Just remember Raven, once you get to Hogwarts, you will have to use the wand to maintain your cover," her voice was stern and had a degree of sharpness to it. Raven blinked at her. That was a condition that hadn't been mentioned before.

"They can't do magic without a wand?" she asked in a flat voice that betrayed annoyance more than an annoyed tone could have. Dracona shrugged helplessly and shook her head in recognition of the negative.

"It's a very rare ability, if it exists at all," Dracona frowned thoughtfully. "For one not yet out of school, it would be next to impossible. Don't blow your cover, Raven. You might find yourself gaining unwelcome attention if you do." There was a tone of dire warning in her voice that Raven quirked an eyebrow at. She was the focus of unwanted attention everyday, or, part of that focus anyway. Though, somehow, she believed that Dracona was referring to something worse than the media.

"Does the woman who hired you know of your powers?" Raven questioned delicately. Dracona nodded her head slowly and Raven's mind began to spin. That meant that Dracona had likely told this McGonagall woman of Raven's powers. It also made Dracona's life far more easily than Raven's was going to be. She'd have to live in and among the other students while trying to investigate this 'Harry Potter' and trying to figure out what role Trigon played in the dilemma, while at the same time trying to hide her 'less-than-normal' powers.

"I'm sorry, Raven," Dracona's voice was genuinely apologetic. Raven shrugged, knowing that it wasn't actually the dark haired woman's fault. Security was a necessary measure to be taken, and though Raven didn't see who it was that she was hiding from, she trusted that Dracona did. After all, her father _definitely_ knew who she was, and if this new minion was working for him, then he would surely be told who she was, and the threat she posed to whatever their plan was. Perhaps Dracona was simply trying to protect herself? _That_ made the most sense, and was most likely. If Trigon wasn't at the school himself, he wouldn't have anyway of knowing that there was a member of the Seraphlin clan there. Even with Raven there, a Seraphlin assisting her was something that even _Trigon_ wouldn't consider as a possibility.

"When can I get my wand?" Raven asked after a few minutes of consideration that both she and Dracona spent deep in thought. She was surprised to that she was actually eager to get the day started, and to see what going to this odd school would bring.

Dracona simply blinked at her for a moment as she brought her mind away from whatever it was she was thinking about, before a look of recognition crossed her features and she nodded slowly. "Today, I believe. We should be going to the school soon and getting you acquainted with Minerva…" She trailed off into a tone that was barely understandable, muttering something about sending a letter to prepare the Headmistress for their arrival. She stood as she muttered and slung her satchel over her shoulder. Her eyes fell on Raven and looked over her with an analytical sweep. "She, of course, knows of your powers," she said in confirmation of Raven's previous thoughts.

Raven nodded slowly. That had been obvious from the Headmistress' letter to her as well, now that she thought on it. It had sounded like the wizarding world was very reliant on heroes, and that there was a lot expected of her and her experience in dealing with her father. She hated people who were hard pressed to look after themselves, _especially_ when they had their own degrees of power. She voiced this opinion and earned a laugh from Dracona.

"Perhaps, but that's a fault of society in general, don't you agree? Always looking for the easy way out, even if it's at the expense of another," she shook her head and Raven found herself nodding in agreement. You discovered these things quite quickly when you became heavily relied upon.

"Now, to business. I believe that there's a small wizarding community hidden in the downtown of the city where we could gather your supplies," she paused, "I'd suggest waiting until we arrived in London, but unfortunately, Voldemort has hit them hard," her tone spoke for itself. London wasn't safe, and would only get worse with Trigon controlling this _Voldemort._

Raven stared at Dracona, who was still speaking, though it seemed that it was more to herself than to Raven at this point. Raven placed a gentle hand on the demoness' shoulder, quickly startling the woman from her reverie.

"I'm sorry," Dracona apologised in a soft voice, "Before we go though, you should change," she smiled and laid her hands out before her. As they began to glow in the soft tones of her aura, she rotated them in a swift movement and Raven felt the magic stirring in her cloak and leotard. When the sparkles of power had vanished, she looked down and gasped, eyes widening in shock.

Her Titan's garb had been replaced with garments much like those Dracona had been wearing the day when she had first come to the Tower. Her leotard had been replaced by a floor length set of royal blue robes and the colour of her cloak had been changed to a blue so dark that it might as well have been black. The bauble on her cloak had morphed into a fancy silver clasp, and two replicas of the same acted as clips to hold the open folds of the cloak together.

She looked up at Dracona, eyes still wide to find that the woman was wearing similar garb, though of a much different cut – it seemed to be more formal – and of a deep violet hue. Once again, her violet fringed, black cloak was draped around her frame, giving her an ominous look that Raven hadn't noticed before.

"Shall we go?" she asked with a smile. Raven nodded slowly and Dracona raised her arms. A dome of power surrounded them in what Raven saw as an imitation of her own abilities, and the Titan's recreation room dissolved around them to be replaced by the cheerful looking lobby of what appeared to be a small hotel.

A young woman – no older than herself, Raven believed – stood behind the counter, wearing the same style clothing as she and Dracona wore. "Do you require rooms?" she asked softly, and in a manner that told Raven that people appearing out of thin air was a regular occurrence here. The girl's large, doe-like brown eyes blinked at them curiously.

Dracona shook her head quickly, "Just passing through, thank you," she replied before turning toward the large double doors that were the entrance and exit of the building. She made a gesture for Raven to follow and to stay close as she made her own way outside.

Raven's eyes widened in shock at the sight that met her eyes upon exiting the hotel. It wouldn't have been an exceptional sight, had the street been closed. Indeed, in that case, this small street would probably have been overlooked as a mere, run-down alleyway. However, with every store open and proudly displaying their wares, the street was definitely something to gawk at.

The shops closest to her caught her attention first. To her right stood a small building, it's display windows filled with stacked books. The painted sign above the shop door read; 'Bloopit's – Spells, Curses and Magics' in bright yellow paint on a background of faded blue. To her left stood a slightly larger, yet more rundown building with a rusted iron sign that appeared to read; 'Suplies for Magiks,' though Raven wasn't quite sure. Displayed in this shop were a variety of things, from cauldrons to telescopes.

"Come on, Raven. We came here for a wand," Dracona said, lightly tugging the sleeve of her robe as she began walking down the street. Raven followed her slowly, telling herself that she'd ensure they stopped at _Bloopit's_ on the way back through. She figured that it would be easy enough to persuade Dracona to spend a bit of time in the bookstore.

Visiting the bookstore, however, seemed to be the last thing on Dracona's mind as she meandered through the thick crowd. The building they arrived at moments later was small, the front only large enough for a tiny display window that had the curtains drawn, and a small door with a plaque that read 'Meinand's Wands' in small, cramped lettering.

Dracona opened the door and held it, beckoning Raven forward with a sweep of her hand. Raven approached slowly and entered the shop, her eyes flickering back and forth to take in shelves full of small, narrow boxes that Raven assumed held wands. A portly man stood behind a counter in the back of the store, pursing his lips as he studied his customers. Raven summoned up her best glare, and was about to use it when she realised that it was Dracona whom he was studying.

"Good afternoon, Mr Meinand," Dracona said quaintly, though Raven couldn't help but notice that she spoke more quickly than was usual for her. When the wand-store keeper simply continued to study Dracona, the woman grimaced and Raven found herself being propelled forward. With a mutter of, 'I'll wait for you outside,' Dracona spun on her heel and left the shop, lifting her hood to settle around her head and she went.

Meinand stared after her until Raven cleared her throat sharply, at which time he turned his eyes upon her and nodded. "You need a wand, then?" he asked, peering at her from behind a thin monocle that covered his right eye. The monocle brought it to Raven's attention that the man had one eye that was normal – a cheering brown – and one that didn't quite meet the definition of the word 'normal.' For the eye that was half hidden behind his monocle was a pale blue, and looked almost lifeless compared to his left. Raven quickly averted her gaze. The sight was decidedly disturbing.

"I do," she responded with a nod of her head. The shop keeper peered at her for another moment before emerging from behind the desk and gesturing for her to follow as he walk down one of the rows of shelved wands, examining each with seemingly little interest before he chose one from the shelf.

"Here you are," he said, voice resonating in a deep baritone that echoed through the small shop. Raven gave him a perplexed stare as he held the wand handle toward her. Her stared switched to the small, lightly coloured rod and her brow creased as she took it from him.

"It's made of willow, and has a core containing a drop of Mandrake juice. Good for healing magic, because of the Mandrake properties…" he trailed off as she continued to stare at him, knowing she looked lost, but not really caring. She had no idea what was going on, and gave a brief moment to wonder why Dracona hadn't explained anything to her before deciding that she wanted answers. Now.

"What am I supposed to do?" she asked monotonously. Meinand blinked at her, then sighed, shaking his head in a manner that she knew to be one of annoyance – she could feel waves of frustration pouring from him as he scowled, not at her, but at the door. Apparently, he was annoyed at Dracona as well. And he apparently had a dislike for her, but why?

She watched him carefully for a few moments, and when he didn't respond to her question, pondered the correct way of phrasing it before delicately asking, "Do you know her from somewhere?" She accompanied the carefully chosen words with an offhand tone of voice as to not seem like she was prying. The question was enough to being the man around from whatever he had been thinking about, and he simply blinked at her a moment before responding.

"You'll do good to look out for yourself around her. Her clan breeds tricksters, and she's one of the best…" he trailed off, and Raven sensed that Meinand felt he'd said too much. Too much for him though, was nearly enough for her. He hadn't _directly_ answered her question, but he'd given her more than enough to think about.

"Now…" Meinand was saying, back in the role of wand maker. "Do you feel anything from that wand?" She blinked at him, wondering if he was completely mad, but deciding to humour him. The core hadn't reacted negatively to her magic, so that was good, but it hadn't done much else either. As quickly as she could shake her head, Meinand handed her another wand.

It became quite routine over the next quarter of an hour. It seemed that the wands didn't like Raven's magic, and so didn't seem to think it necessary that she have one. (Which would have been fine with her, had Dracona not been so against it.) This became so much the pattern, that Raven was genuinely shocked when she felt a comforting warmth spread up her arm and a saw trickle of black aura spread from the tip of the most recent wand that she'd been handed, to swirl around her body, spreading her cloak out and lifting her hair as a feeling of euphoria filled her. This was _her_ wand.

The wand keeper was nodding, though she could tell he was irked by something. When she asked, he only shook his head and smiled at her before taking the wand and returning it to it's box.

"What was that one made of?" Raven asked curiously as Meinand pulled out an old-fashioned abacus and began to calculate the price of the wand. She'd stopped paying attention to what each wand was made of sometime after the third try, mainly because she didn't understand a word of it. There had to be significance to each material used, but Raven was unsure as to whether the significances she knew would be applicable here.

Meinand looked up from the abacus at her question and frowned at her around his monocle. "Cherry wood, with a core containing two common core materials. One, the mane hair of a unicorn, and the other," here, the force of his frown increased, "the flight feather of a phoenix." Raven kept her face passive at the mysterious tone his voice had taken on, and was going to ask him for further details when the door opened and Dracona re-entered. Raven back to Meinand to find that he had finished his calculation, and was showing no sign that they'd been discussing anything important a moment prior.

"That will be eight Galleons please," the wand maker said. Dracona passed him a small bag of coins with an odd look on her face as she did so, and then ushered Raven from the wand shop. As the door banged shut behind them, Raven spun to confront Dracona.

"What is it you aren't telling me?" she demanded. Dracona gave her an aloof look and shook her head, shrugging her shoulders and making it seem as if the question hadn't caught her off guard. Raven knew it had though – Dracona's shields had fallen and anxiety was coming off of her in thick waves. Not only that, but her power level had flared, and was currently sitting somewhere high above Raven's.

Raven took a deep breath – that power flare reminded her that Dracona was definitely dangerous, and Raven didn't want to know what she would do if she felt too frightened. She wasn't stupid – she knew that the demoness would easily be able to maim or kill her. She was lucky that Dracona was so mild-tempered, it seemed.

Of course, being mild-tempered didn't stop her from hiding the truth. Far from it, in fact. "I have answered your questions concerning Hogwarts, and given you more information than you requested." Dracona said placidly. Raven frowned at her. That hadn't been what she'd been referring to and the woman knew it.

She turned her frown into a glower, but the woman gave no sign that she noticed it, nor did she give any sign that she took Raven's words to have a different meaning. How could she be so calm when she was blatantly _lying_? Obviously, Meinand had known something about Dracona that – he'd hinted at it – that she wasn't revealing, and that Raven was unable to figure out herself.

It obviously had something to do with her breeding and ancestral line. Raven didn't know truly didn't know a lot about the Seraphlin clan, other than that they had pure magic, and that they rarely had a member of the clan that turned. Since she was fairly sure that the clan wouldn't blood a turned member, she was almost positive that Dracona didn't have any cruel ulterior motives.

However, the possibly couldn't be eliminated. Raven wasn't quite sure what the reason had been for inviting Dracona to stay at the Tower once she'd introduced herself. Sometimes, she even had vivid dreams that Dracona had gone to a magical length to give Raven a false sense of security. However, it was completely possible that Raven was simply taking comfort from the calming waves of power that usually emitted from the demoness.

For they were the kind of power waves that made one feel secure – strong, steady – and made Dracona seem infallible. And of course, when one was with someone they felt was invincible, they tended to be lulled into a false sense of security. Which, Raven decided, was probably why she'd been having those dreams. Her subconscious was furious at her for letting her defences fall, and was trying to make her put them back up, to keep her from getting hurt… Unfortunately, it wasn't working well at all.

But she had a true reason to be cautious of Dracona now. She'd been given a warning against the woman – an actual warning, not something her subconscious had invented – and the warning had been cryptic at that. She's definitely have to stay alert now, and perhaps become a bit more avoidant. Not that that would work once they arrived at Hogwarts, seeing as Dracona would be leading one of her classes.

She looked around her to discover that she was standing in front of a small, gloomy shop window with a sign advertising it as being an apothecary. It appeared that her feet had been following Dracona without her mind being with them, and so without her consciously being aware of it. Not that the woman was anywhere in sight. Well, that was interesting.

For a moment, she stood contemplating walking back down the street to where she'd seen the bookstore. It couldn't hurt, and she truly wanted to see some of the books. After all, they'd likely all be spell books of some sort, and she was always interested in learning new spells and rituals.

But unfortunately, she was foreign to this place and would probably end up getting lost or doing something that would offend someone. It was something she usually kept to herself, but although her mother had been born on Earth, she had been raised on Azarath, and as a result, often felt as out of place here as Starfire. After all, how many humans had magic? (She tactfully ignored that she was currently standing in the middle of a street with witches and wizards of all ages milling around her.)

"Are you ready to move on, Raven?" Dracona was suddenly there and asking in a tone that was sugary and over-polite as she handed Raven a bag of potions supplies. She'd just come from inside the apothecary and brought with her the musty scents of ingredients and brewing potions. Raven shrugged and rolled her eyes as Dracona began walking away without actually waiting for a response.

Waves of frustration and something that felt like offence were flooding from the woman, and though Raven was sure that she was the only one who could actually feel them, passers-by seemed to be avoiding her. Indeed, many scampered to file down the opposite side of the street as Dracona approached.

It was quite amusing, and they went along like that for a while. Raven trailing behind as Dracona's presence cleared a path before them. In and out of stores they went; first, a robe shop, where the seamstress seemed shocked that they were purchasing a full set of Hogwarts robes in California, then to the supply store to purchase a telescope and cauldron. (Raven also managed to buy a small and very delicate crystal ball and a bag of tea leaves before Dracona could usher her out.)

Finally, just as the sun was beginning to set on the horizon, they reached the bookstore that Raven had so wanted to enter.

* * *

_To my reviewers…_

Sigma1 – I hope you appreciated this chapter for Dracona's development. I knew that someone, eventually, would bring up what you did. Okay, so firstly… Her name. Dracona was originally created to be thrown into a non-crossover fic. Unfortunately for me XD she fit perfectly into the role that needed to be played in this fic, and I didn't want to change the name and the character background that goes along with it, because there are some major Dracona characteristics that go along with the name. Blah.

And of course, you mentioned her utter perfection. That, and the whole 'good' and 'demon' thing don't work well together. The only thing that I can really say right now is that I hope you put those two thoughts together when reading this chapter, and that you add them to the feelings that are expressed about her by the other characters. And of course, Raven only likes to think that she knows everything.

Jeff Higgs – I can't wait to write the Harry meets Raven scene, because as of right now, _I_ don't even know where it's going to go.

Bookworm12890, drakness'-angel, Moon Goddess of the Sun, and Darkest Raven – Thank you!

_Author's Corner_

Late update, I know. But I got to one point, right near the end and thought that there should've been more to this chapter, and sat on that for about a month. When I realised that nothing more was going to come, I decided that I had better get this chapter out. So… Here's to hoping that the next chapter comes out a bit quicker, hmm?

Until then----

* * *

Completed – October 23/2005 


	4. Lost in One's Dreams

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Titans, nor do I own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the two. Teen Titans is © of DC Comics, Harry Potter is © of J.K. Rowling, and Warner Brothers holds © over both of them.

**Author's Warning:** This is a crossover fic. :Watches people close the window.: Ahem. Those of you who do not like crossovers may leave now. The rest of you, I invite to continue on… _Note – Story contains major HBP spoilers_.

**Summary:** Trigon has returned, and Voldemort has joined him as a minion. Drawn by strange dreams, Raven must involve herself in the problems of others, including one Harry Potter, who is once again being plagued by strange dreams. This year at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends are going to be pitted against their most difficult task yet. Destroying a force that even the Dark Lord himself fears won't be easy…

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Demon's Wrath or; Year Seven and Negative One-Fourth**

_Chapter 4 – Lost in One's Dreams _

Harry frowned at the headline on the newspaper that lay open in front of him. 'Hogwarts open for another year,' stared at him, and the article that followed taunted him by being nothing more than a bunch of easy to believe lies written by the group of Death Eaters who had taken over the _Prophet._ Of course, the majority of the wizarding world had no idea that the newspaper they read daily was being controlled by the very source that they wished to be informed of. Indeed, it was something that only the Order knew of for sure, and something that Harry, Ron and Hermione had _kindly_ been informed of about a month after the take over had occurred. It still irked Harry that he hadn't been allowed to become a member of the Order, but he'd been shouted at and spoken down to often enough that he'd finally given up trying. And unfortunately, the kitchen door of Grimmauld Place was warded against extendable-ears.

Harry read through the article again. There was enough truth among the lies that the average person wouldn't ask questions. Someone more intelligent probably wouldn't question the validity of the article anyway, in this terrified state that the entire population of wizarding Britain had fallen into. It was annoying, even if it was probably for the best. Those who stayed in the dark were less likely to end up hurt. Those who stayed uninformed were less likely to end up dead. Even so, the death tolls were high, and ever rising.

Harry turned the page and found a moving image of Rufus Scrimgeour scowling up at him, with the headline 'Minister lax in duties?' screaming in bold letters just above. This article wasn't entirely lies either. The Minister hadn't done much to halt the Death Eater movements. It wasn't that he hadn't _tried_ of course, but more that he frowned so heavily upon the Order acting without _his_ orders and consent that he put more effort into nosing into Order business than in dispatching his Aurors with orders that had any impact.

But that was the extent of Harry knowledge concerning the Minister, and he'd only found it out by overhearing a screaming match that had taken place between McGonagall and Scrimgeour a few days prior.

He sighed and removed his glasses to scrub a hand across his face, and squinted at the clock on the table next to his bed. The house had been silent for a while, and it was really no wonder, what with it being almost 1:30 in the morning. Even Phineas Nigellus was snoring softly in his frame on the other side of the room. Folding the paper and throwing it to the floor next to him, Harry flicked his wand at the oil lamp on the side table to expel it, and soon after that had drifted off into a deep sleep.

* * *

He was wandering through a place that definitely wasn't anything familiar. Looking a cross between Hogwarts and the Forbidden Forest that sat on its boundaries, wherever he was seemed a growing building. The floor was made of grass, gravel and sand; the walls were trees, and some sort of climbing ivy with the occasional gap of what he assumed was meant to be a window.

He'd no idea how he'd gotten here, but his feet seemed to know how he was going to get out. At least, he hoped that was where they were taking him as he walked involuntarily through the winding halls. It was when he'd reached a broad, straight stretch of hallway that he caught sight of the figure his feet must've been following.

Swathed in a deep blue cloak of a style Harry had never seen before, the figure turned to stare at him, seeming momentarily startled, and he was struck with just how out of place this hallway was from the rest of the place. For the scenery had changed at some point, and he had found himself standing in a place where the walls were made of open space, if there were any walls there at all, and the ground was nothing more than sheer rock. Overhead, somewhere around where the ceiling should have been, a small flock of black birds flew by. He thought they resembled some sort of crow, save for their large, round eyes. Not beady like a crows, but feeling, intelligent and blood red.

"So you're Harry Potter," the cloaked figure said, startling Harry with the sound of her voice. He'd realised upon hearing her speak that otherwise, the place was dead silent. He thought, for a brief moment, about questioning how she knew his name, but then decided against it. He wasn't sure that he wanted to know the answer.

But that brought up more questions. How did this girl know who he was? More importantly, was she working for Voldemort? How was he supposed to tell? Well, if she tried to kill him, it would be obvious, but without that obvious hint, t would be far more difficult to figure out. There was no point in asking only to receive a lie in response.

"Who're you?" he finally asked in a lame tone. The figure shuffled, and her cloak moved in such a way that he could only guess that she'd shrugged. He took a step forward, trying to better see beneath the deep hood of her cloak, but she stepped backward just as quickly.

"A dream figure, nothing more," the voice responded, and took another step backward as Harry realised that he was, indeed dreaming.

His eyes snapped open to stare at the canopy above the bed moments later. Weak rays of the early morning sun were filtering into the room through the partially closed drapes, and Harry rolled onto his side but couldn't regain his sleeping state. Sighing, he rose from the bed, barely glancing at the copy of the _Prophet_ from the night before as he threw on the first shirt that came to hand – a ratty old, black t-shirt that needed to be thrown out – to accompany the pyjama pants that he couldn't be bothered to change, and left the room for the kitchen. Hopefully, there'd be someone awake other than himself and Kreacher.

Hermione was sitting with a pile of toast on the table in front of her when he entered, reading what appeared to be a Muggle newspaper. She looked up as he sat next to her and pushed the paper toward him. A glance at the headline was all Harry needed to know that he didn't want to read the article. A glance at the headline was all that Harry needed to see before he grabbed a piece of toast from Hermione's pile and paced to the other end of the kitchen.

"We should have caught some of them by now. The Order's accomplished _nothing_!" he said in a low growl that ended in his fist slamming against the wall. Hermione fixed him with a look that was meant to be scolding, but came out to be more pitying than anything else. Harry scowled and turned away from her, "If I – "

Hermione cut him off before he could finish forming the thought, "You _can't _do anything about it Harry. And you're _not_ going to go out and try to catch them on your own," her voice was gentle, but Harry winced anyway. He hadn't thought it to be so obvious that he was considering doing just that. But why not? He'd have just as much of a chance at catching a Death Eater or two as any member of the Order.

"If you even _think_ about it any further, I'll go straight to McGonagall. And Mrs Weasley," Hermione threatened sternly. Harry grimaced, knowing that it would be just like her to follow through. Though it wasn't McGonagall that he was worried about. He could always get around the newly instated Hogwarts Headmistress. No, it was his surrogate mother, Mrs Weasley, that he was worried about. The woman would go ballistic if she found out Harry was planning to go after Death Eaters on his own.

He glared at Hermione, but she only stared back smugly until he sighed and nodded. "Fine, I give in. You win," he said blandly. Hermione grinned, crossed the kitchen and hugged him tightly. It was a moment before he realised that the soft sounds he was hearing was her sobbing into his shirt. "Hermione?" He questioned softly.

She shook her head and looked up at him, "It's nothing," she muttered, wiping away the tears and stepping back. He raised a disbelieving eyebrow, and she sighed. "I'm _worried_ about you, Harry. I know you don't think of it this way, but you're often very reckless. And, well… You can't afford to be reckless with Dumbledore not around to protect you." He blinked as she finished speaking. He wasn't reckless, was he?

"Hermione…" he started slowly, but she shook her head and took his hand.

"Promise me you won't do anything stupid, Harry," she begged. He blinked at her and contemplated the turns his life had taken since he'd found out that he was a wizard. As he opened his mouth to tell her that he didn't believe he'd ever done something all that stupid in her line of sight, Ron came in the room.

The Weasley boy's jaw dropped at the sight of Hermione holding Harry's hand and his eyes narrowed as Harry glanced at him, and then realised how close he and Hermione were standing. Yes, she was one of his best friends, but Ron had always tended toward a jealousy complex. Luckily, Hermione had broken away from Harry and the previous conversation and walked over to Ron almost as soon as he'd noticed them.

"Why are you two up so early?" he demanded. Hermione rolled her eyes and grabbed his arm, pulling him onto the bench at the kitchen table to sit next to her. He did so, giving her a confused look. "Hermione?"

"Tell Harry not to do something stupid about this," she waved the newspaper in his face, "Ron." Ron's eyes scanned the headline, and he groaned softly as his eyes read the words. Harry walked over to the table and sighed and Ron began to speak.

"It's not your fault, mate," he said calmly. Harry stared at him and sighed. "You didn't even know those people, did you?" When Harry shook his head, Ron touched his arm. "Then stop blaming yourself," he said.

Harry looked to Hermione, and she nodded. "Ron's right. You didn't have anything to do with it. You didn't know about it, and even if you had, you couldn't have stopped it. Nothing that Voldemort does is your fault, Harry!" Her last sentence was almost angry, but only because she could see that Harry was having a hard time believing her words.

After all, the death of those close to him was always his fault, wasn't it? He groaned and put his head in his hands as his scar flared with a pain that quickly retracted. He needed to get away from Grimmauld Place.

* * *

Harry glowered at the blonde boy who stood before him. Draco Malfoy had to be the most aggravating Slytherin on the planet, and that was saying something, because he found them all to be quite annoying. He ignored the little voice at the back of his mind that liked to tell him that he belonged with them.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry demanded. His wand was already out and held in front of him, as was Malfoy's. Harry didn't trust the blonde boy not to initiate a duel. The blonde boy _was_ of age, after all. And probably already high in the Death Eater ranks, if his father had any influence. Which could be devastating for the few people who dared scamper through Diagon Alley. Not that there were many people who did – Voldemort seemed to have more of an influence than he did before. Yes, the stores still opened, but only for short hours, and in the middle of the day when they felt safest.

The Slytherin didn't reply. Instead, he chose to step to one side and then to the other, obviously contemplating something. Ron stiffened beside Harry, and Hermione gently took hold of one of his arms. "We have things to do, Harry," she whispered in his ear, reaching over and grabbing hold of Ron as well when the red head showed signs of hostility.

"I'll see you at school, Potter," Malfoy sneered, turning and walking away as his parents approached. Lucius Malfoy narrowed his cold grey eyes at Harry before putting a hand on his son's shoulder and stooping slightly so that he could speak directly into his ear. Narcissa Malfoy pretended that the Gryffindor trio didn't exist.

"He didn't make a scene," Harry muttered, more to himself than to his friends, as they walked on. "Why didn't he make a scene?" He questioned, his tone only a bit louder. Ron glanced at him warily, while Hermione shook her head.

"Stop seeing evil where there isn't any, Harry. We know Malfoy isn't your favourite person, but he wouldn't do anything in broad daylight," she said calmly. Harry glared at her, and Ron's jaw dropped.

"Seeing evil where there isn't any? Hermione, do you realise who we're talking about?" Ron asked, his jaw dropping in disbelief. Hermione harrumphed, and Ron continued. "Malfoy's a slimy git. There's no reason for him _not_ to attack Harry in broad daylight. Besides, he's a Death Eater." Hermione glared at Ron after the final statement.

"You can't prove that, Ron," she said, an annoyed, yet perhaps slightly fearful tone in her voice. Just like Hermione, to avoid a topic such as that one. Ron's look of disbelief increased.

"Hermione! He's the son of _Lucius Malfoy_! Of course he's a Death Eater!" Ron exclaimed. Harry's eyes scanned the street as they walked. No one was trying to listen in, which was probably a good thing. He doubted that most sane people would want to listen in on this conversation.

Hermione, obviously annoyed, began walking more quickly. Harry and Ron quickened with her and Harry gently took hold of her arm. "After trying to kill Dumbledore, Hermione… Really… There's no other explanation…" Harry said softly. Hermione sniffed and shook her head.

"I know, Harry… But we still can't really prove it…" she responded. Harry nodded slowly. He knew that as well. Unless Malfoy's forearm was exposed… Harry pondered a way for it to be done as they progressed back to the Leaky Cauldron, having actually finished their shopping before Malfoy had shown his ugly face.

The floo network had been shut down by the Ministry, something that was probably for the best, with all of the Death Eaters that were walking around. Side-along Apparition, broomsticks and feet would have been the only way for the group to return to Grimmauld Place, had their Apparition tests not taken place the week before. Luckily, Ron had passed his second test, and Harry had been successful in passing his first.

The 'popped' into the bushes that surrounded the run down house moments later. The bushes had been grown in such a way that they easily sheltered from the eyes of any curious onlookers, and so that there was still plenty of space to Apparate into and out of while within them. They were also close enough to the door that the three were able to get back into the house without incident.

Fred and George were sitting at the table, talking about something in low voices, a sheet of parchment with figures on it spread across the wooden surface in front of them. Lupin sat on the other side of the room, watching with what looked like a mild curiosity. He looked at Harry when he entered, and gestured for the three of them to join him. They crossed the room quickly and took seats around him, Harry wearing a curious expression to rival Lupin's concerned one.

"Professor Seraphlin stopped by, Harry," he began. Harry's curious expression turned to one of confusion and he opened his mouth to speak, but was stalled by Lupin's hand. "I am not exactly sure what she wanted, but I do know that you shouldn't fully trust her," he explained calmly. Harry blinked.

"Death Eater?" Harry asked calmly. Lupin shook his head, and Harry frowned. Why not trust her then? Not that he'd fully put his trust into anyone he'd just met, but Dracona had seemed nice enough.

"Something else. I'm not sure what, Harry, but…" he trailed off, sighed and shook his head. "Sometimes being a werewolf gives me an advantage over normal wizards," he said slowly. Harry raised an eyebrow. Lupin didn't usually talk about things like this. "The 'wolf' part of me can sense things that normal wizards can't, and it senses a threat in Dracona," his eyes looked into Harry's, and Harry nodded in understanding. He hadn't noticed anything of course, but he trusted Lupin.

"I'll be careful," Harry replied. Remus nodded and a smile came across his prematurely lined face. Bright, emerald eyes turned to look at Ron and Hermione, and found worried expressions on both of their faces. He sighed blandly. "I _will_!" he exclaimed. Ron chuckled, but Hermione frowned.

"Professor…" the brown eyed girl started slowly, obviously contemplating her words. "What do _you_ think the threat is?" her voice was soft and curious, yet also very cautious. She was clearly worried for Harry's safety. "And do you think it faces Harry directly?" Harry stirred at this.

Lupin sighed and ran a hand across his face. "I can't be sure, Hermione, but Harry," here, he turned to face the scar faced boy, "You still need to be careful. Be wary of _anyone_ you don't know."

Harry nodded stiffly. He _would_ be careful. Hermione's eyes were still wary as she watched him though. Harry stood abruptly, "School starts in a week." He said simply before turning and leaving the room. Ron, Hermione and Lupin shared glances as he left, before each went their own way.

* * *

The cloaked figure was in his dreams again. He ran after her this time, determined to have a proper conversation before he woke up. "Wait!" he called as he followed her around a corner. Once again, he was running through that strangely natural building. Once again, she was being very evasive. But she did stop when he called out to her, and she turned to look at him. He couldn't see beneath her hood, which worried him. What would she do, now that she knew he was there? Would she attack?

His body tensed, ready for any onslaught. When the figure didn't move, he allowed himself to relax, remembering that she had been the one running from him, and that it hadn't been the other way around. He took a deep breath, and took a step toward her.

"Who _are_ you?" he asked, just as he had the last time that they had met. Her cloak shuffled, and he knew that she had shrugged. He sighed, "Why won't you tell me?" he asked cautiously.

The figure let out a long sigh that echoed his, "You will find out soon enough." She said calmly. Harry groaned. That was about as helpful as silence.

"You have a strong mind," she said after long moments of a tense silence. He looked up at her, surprised, and wondering where the topic had come from. "I tried to block you out," she finally explained, and he swore he could hear a frown in her tone, "Of course, _she's _probably helping you along…" this last part seemed more to herself, though Harry clearly heard it.

"She?" he asked softly. The figure's head shot up, and then the hood moved in a slow nod. Harry cocked his head to the side, "Professor Seraphlin?" He didn't know what had made him say the name, but he could see that she was just as surprised as he was that the name had come from his lips.

"Dracona, yes," the other figure replied, once again nodding. "An irritating woman and perhaps one to be wary of…" she trailed off. "But we must leave this now." She said, suddenly looking around furtively. "She may want us to speak, but others won't. It's time for you to wake up," and in a flash of thick black power, she had left Harry alone.

Harry looked around slowly. He knew that he was dreaming, but try as he may, he couldn't wake up. He began to walk down the narrow corridor, stopping at each fork and carefully contemplating his next direction before taking it. He was lost, but really, he'd been lost from the beginning. Why couldn't he wake up?

* * *

Hermione watched worriedly as Harry thrashed back and forth beneath his sheets. Carefully, she once again untangled one of the thin blankets as it threatened to choke the dark haired boy. They'd tried, time and again, to wake him up, but the boy wouldn't wake. It seemed that he was stuck in his dream world, which, for Harry, definitely wasn't a good thing.

But no one had managed to come up with a way to wake him. They'd shaken him, shouted at him, and doused him with water… But still, had had no success. Worse, was that his dreams couldn't be getting any better. If anything, he was in more of a state of distress than he had been when Ron had first come running down the stairs with the news that Harry was having a nightmare, and that he'd been unable to wake him. That had been hours ago.

Hermione gripped one of the sleeping boy's hands in hers and held to it tightly. "Wake up, Harry," she whispered. No response, though the thrashing had slowed when she'd taken his hand. Why did everything always have to happen to Harry?

* * *

Harry was in a state of panic. Not only was he lost, but he could swear that something was following him. And it wasn't anything that he'd be able to easily deal with, he knew that for a fact. He was almost certain that it was something that wouldn't hesitate for a moment before eating him. Or just killing him. (Somehow, being eaten sounded more devastating.)

A heavy breathing behind him brought him back to reality, and he broke into a run. He could hear the thing lumbering along behind him, and couldn't help but think that it was probably enjoying chasing him. It probably found this very enjoyable, if only because Harry didn't.

As he ran, Harry searched his pockets for his wand. Nothing. Where was it? He never went _anywhere_ without his wand. Why wouldn't he have it now? If he could have spared the breath for an exasperated sigh, he would've – it figured that he wouldn't have his wand in a _dream_ where he was running for his life. Of course, he didn't have that breath to spare, and so refrained from sighing.

He didn't dare check to see what was following him. While he was quite sure that, whatever his mind had conjured up, he'd seen worse, he still wasn't keen to check. He wasn't looking forward to seeing something that resembled half-Dementor, half-Blast-Ended Skrewt. Even as he tried to picture what that would look like, Harry tripped. He fell to the floor, grimacing as he skidded along it, and was surprised to hear the lumbering creature run right over top of him and continue moving.

He looked up, cautious, but extremely curious, to find that the thing that had been chasing him… Wasn't there. Harry shook his head angrily. That was the third time that had happened, and while he was glad to know that there was probably nothing here that was capable of hurting him, he was still extremely frustrated. Why couldn't he wake up?

He groaned and slid down the wall to sit against it. He'd been wandering around for what felt like hours, and hadn't had any success. Why was he stuck here? Would he be stuck here forever? He hoped not. He thought he'd go crazy fairly quickly if he had to repeatedly run from non-existent monsters.

He scrubbed a hand across his face. Well, his scar wasn't burning, so that could only be a good thing. It meant that Voldemort couldn't possibly be involved in what was happening to him, didn't it? Hopefully. He grimaced and sighed, letting reality wash over him. Unless someone from the outside somehow managed to wake him up, he'd probably be stuck in here for a long time.

* * *

_Author's Corner_

So… Am I not supposed to reply to my reviewers here anymore…? Aww D: Sorry guys. :puts out cookies anyway: Though I'm sorely tempted to break that rule, seeing as I'm an veteran and I hate all these new rules they've been imposing in the last year. :shifty eyes:.

Anyway, I know this update took awhile, but I was stuck on the second dream sequence… I think the next chapter will come to me more easily The Raven ones tend to be easier to write, and I know what's going to happen :D Watch for it!

Completed – December 18/2005


	5. Friends and Foes

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Titans, nor do I own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the two. Teen Titans is © of DC Comics, Harry Potter is © of J.K. Rowling, and Warner Brothers holds © over both of them.

**Author's Warning:** This is a crossover fic. :Watches people close the window.: Ahem. Those of you who do not like crossovers may leave now. The rest of you, I invite to continue on… _Note – Story contains major HBP spoilers_.

**Summary:** Trigon has returned, and Voldemort has joined him as a minion. Drawn by strange dreams, Raven must involve herself in the problems of others, including one Harry Potter, who is once again being plagued by strange dreams. This year at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends are going to be pitted against their most difficult task yet. Destroying a force that even the Dark Lord himself fears won't be easy…

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Demon's Wrath or; Year Seven and Negative One-Fourth**

_Chapter 5 – Friends and Foes_

Over the next few days, Raven was aware of a constant ache in the back of her mind. It was like having a pounding headache, except the pain wasn't physical, and couldn't be gotten rid of with a simple remedy. Did metaphorical headaches even exist?

Meditation hadn't helped her to get rid of it, no matter how many hours she sat clearing her mind, and it wasn't until one night, the first night she spent at Hogwarts, that she finally figured out what the ache had been.

Harry Potter was a rather insistent creature, and apparently had a very strong – or stubborn – mind. It had been he who had been constantly drilling into her, for no reason other than that he wanted help. It hadn't been until she'd fallen asleep that night that she'd discovered exactly _why_ he'd needed help.

The boy had somehow gotten himself lost within the surreal world of dreams that was laid between consciousness and unconsciousness. She supposed it may have been something of her fault – she _had_ been the one to summon him there in the first place. But why hadn't he been able to get out? She honestly had no idea, and hadn't really bothered to try and figure it out before she'd forced him back out and awake.

He'd been in a panic, which had been why he'd been giving _her _the headache, and not someone else. His subconscious had known that she was familiar with the dream land, and had automatically bothered her. How he'd managed to form such a strong bond with her, without actually meeting her, and so quickly, she had no idea. But that was neither here nor there. It was in the past, and she (personally) thought that she'd dealt with it admirably. She hadn't even given away her identity.

Yet. She had to hope that he wouldn't recognise her when they met face to face. After all, that forged bond was strong. But it was deep below conscious level. This meant that he might not realise that she and her own dream self were the same person, not unless he was asleep or unconscious, and she close nearby. It was frustrating, and meant that she had to be cautious, at least until she was willing to reveal herself to him.

But she was at Hogwarts now, and she had more important things to worry about than a subconscious bond with a person who was hundreds of miles away.

* * *

She'd had a vague idea of the size of Hogwarts castle before she'd arrived. Her vague idea, however, was very off. The castle was _huge_ compared to the size she'd connected it with. She reflected on that as she walked through the halls, trying to familiarize herself with the building. Term was set to begin in a week; she was glad that the Headmistress had given her the time to get used to the castle's many corridors and staircases before the other students arrived. However, it also left her to the mercy of the Hogwarts professors, who seemed to harbour more curiosity than she thought possible for a group of adults. Though she suspected this was because no one had given any reason for her being there, she still found their scrutiny annoying.

And she wasn't giving them any information to satisfy their curiosity. Instead, she spent most of her time either in the library, or in the private rooms that she had been granted until term started. The library, a room which she had discovered on her first day there, was usually a perfect reprieve from the questioning gazes of the teachers. Not only that, but it was full of books, some the likes of which she'd never imagined. She got lost for hours in those books, usually bringing some of them back to her rooms to study further, and then returning for more the next morning.

Through them, she'd learned a great deal more magic, and had found it a good opportunity to become used to using a wand to direct her magic. It had been difficult at first, but gradually, it had become much easier. Indeed, after three short days of practice, she'd found herself able to manipulate the wand just as well, if not better than the pure energy that usually flowed through her hands. She remembered to practice both though, lest she become more reliant on one.

The library was where she was now, again pouring over books, these ones on the history of Dark Arts, and the wizards who used them. She wasn't randomly browsing – she was looking for information on Harry Potter. She hadn't come across much either. Sure, he was mentioned in a few volumes, but no one had known anything when these books were written, some sixteen years prior. She wondered how the authors hadn't known anything, but supposed that it made sense. He'd been a year old. He shouldn't have been able to use any magic at all, let alone defend himself against such an attack. She put her head in her hands and made an exasperated noise. It made no sense!

Perhaps if she asked the staff a few questions of her own. Give an answer, take an answer, right? She told herself she'd ask Headmistress McGonagall a bit about Harry when she next had a chance to speak with her. She hoped that was soon, as there were a few things she wanted to ask in addition to her questions about Harry. Things that mainly concerned her term at Hogwarts. Her timetable, for instance.

'_Speak of the devil, and he shalt come,_' she quoted to herself as McGonagall peered her head around a bookshelf near the table where Raven was sitting at. Upon spotting Raven, she walked down the row. She stood silently beside the table a moment, looking over Raven's shoulder, before finally speaking.

"Have you thought about which classes you'd like to enrol in?" She questioned. Raven started and looked up at the woman, her violet eyes wide. She hadn't even been given a list! McGonagall seemed to realise this, and made a gesture for Raven to follow her. "There are some things we must discuss. If you'll accompany me to my office?"

Raven gave her books a longing look as she stood and followed the Headmistress. Her eyes flickered back and forth along the corridors as they walked, trying to remember the route, though she knew it probably bordered on impossible. Nothing stayed still in this building! Still, she loved that it was so blindingly magical; it made her feel welcomed.

They reached the Headmistress' office and Raven looked around it curiously, talking in the sleeping portraits along the walls with interest. It was the first time she'd been in McGonagall's office, and she found it to be a rather intriguing place.

"Tea?" the Headmistress offered, holding out a cup to Raven, which she accepted and took a sip of as the woman before her began to speak. "When term starts, I'd like you to room with the other students in the student dormitories. Hogwarts has four houses, named after the four founders of the school, though I daresay you've come across that in your reading already?" Raven nodded briefly, and McGonagall continued speaking. "We Sort the students into their houses by use of an impartial selector, the Sorting Hat," she made a gesture at the bookshelf to her right, and, sure enough, Raven spotted a ratty, ragged old hat sitting a top it.

"How does it work?" Raven asked warily. She wasn't sure she liked the idea of the Hat, though she suspected she knew how it worked, even without McGonagall's explanation.

"The student tries on the Hat, which is bewitched to look into their mind and to find the house which best suits their personality," she explained. Raven sighed and put her head in her hands, lavender hair falling around her face like a curtain as she did so.

"The reason you asked me here is the same reason why I should profusely refuse to allow _any_ magical object to peer into my mind. However, as I also believe that this is probably the only way to allow me entry into any particular house, I suppose I have no choice." Raven stated in a dry voice.

McGonagall nodded, "I was considering doing your Sorting now, instead of with the first years on September the first. You'll be in seventh year when term starts, which, I feel I should make you aware is the year that Harry Potter and his friends are in. No matter which house you are in, you'll no doubt have a few classes with them."

Raven nodded. It would be the best way to watch Harry without him getting suspicious, and better if she weren't in his house, though she was sure she'd have very little say in that. "Alright…" She mumbled, watching McGonagall as she lifted the Sorting Hat from its place on the shelf, walked over to Raven, and then dropped it on her head.

She heard the voice muttering in her ear almost instantly, though it took her a moment to realise that it was the _Hat_ speaking. _"…term doesn't start for three days! Don't know what she's playing at…" _Before, "_So _you're_ Raven Roth then?"_

Raven refrained from rolling her eyes – barely – and thought, "_I am,"_ at it. She heard a noise of glee, which seemed to come from the Hat, and then it began to speak again, though it was rather quiet this time.

_"Haven't had a student as complex as you to Sort for quite a while. You could easily fit in anywhere, that's for sure, but where would you fit best?_

_"You're quite intelligent, and willing to learn. Loyal, though not unconditionally so. Very Slytherin-like, that's for sure, but… Oh! What is this?"_ The Hat seemed gleeful about whatever it was looking at, and its glee worried Raven.

_"Not Slytherin at all then, eh?"_ The Hat said. Raven formed a questioning tone in her mind, and the Hat elaborated. "_You worry for others, not just yourself. You're willing to help those you're loyal to, with minimal worry for your own well-being. You don't love unconditionally, but those you do love, you would die for…" _the Hat trailed off, and Raven wondered what part of her mind it was sifting through.

"Gryffindor!" the Hat suddenly said, not just to her, but to the entire office. Raven felt the Hat come off her head, and thought about what she'd read concerning Gryffindor house while the Headmistress replaced the Hat on its shelf. Daring, brave, chivalric… That didn't sound like her at all! Well, perhaps a little. But didn't Gryffindor put her into the same house as Harry Potter? So much for secrecy and little questions asked…

McGonagall was speaking again. "Well, now that that's finished, you can pick your classes, and I'll five you your timetable, then I'll have you shown to your dormitory. Have you thought of which classes you'd like to take?"

Raven started to shake her head, then quickly changed it to a nod. "I've thought… Divination…" she murmured. "And the basic classes of course," she said, then started listing them. "Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy, and… Herbology I suppose," Raven recited.

"All N.E.W.T. level," the Headmistress said with a nod. "I warn you though, Sybill Trelawney's Divination classes can hardly be considered educational," her lips were pursed, and it was obvious to Raven that the woman didn't put much faith into the art of reading the future. "But I think you'll do well in the other classes," she added, tapping a sheet of parchment with her wand. She passed the parchment to Raven, who looked over the timetable, raising an eyebrow at the classroom numbers. The classes seemed to be scattered all over the castle. Well, it couldn't be _that_ hard to get around, right?

"The password to the Gryffindor common room is '_eihwaz.' _If you have any problems once term starts, both the Head Boy and Head Girl are in your house. Hermione Granger is Head Girl, and Harry Potter has been made Head Boy."

_'Big surprise there,'_ Raven thought wryly.

"If you'll follow me, I'll show you the way. Or would you rather return to the library?" McGonagall asked, rising and adjusting the pointed hat that sat on her head.

"I'll return to the library. Where is Gryffindor common room?" she asked.

"A corridor off of the main on the fifth floor. Approach the portrait of the Fat Lady and state the password. The Fat Lady is the guardian of the common room. I'll have your things moved up to the dormitories." McGonagall explained quickly. Raven stored the directions in her mind and rose to leave.

"Oh, and Miss Roth? Please remember that starting September the first, you're expected to wear your Hogwarts robes." Raven looked down at her cloak and Muggle street clothes and nodded.

"Of course, Professor," she said, and quickly left the office.

Eventually, Raven was able to make it back to the library, and back to her table, at which time she realised that she'd forgotten to ask the woman details on the night Harry Potter had defeated Voldemort sixteen years prior. She sighed, and sunk into her chair, feeling rather defeated and tired. Maybe she'd finish her research in the morning.

Deciding that this was probably best, she busied herself with returning books to their shelves and with taking down other books that she thought might help her to catch up with the other students in her classes. She brought the books with her as she wandered around the corridors, trying to find the portrait of the Fat Lady.

She'd found the fifth floor without incident, but couldn't find the portrait. It didn't help that she'd met Peeves twice and that both times he'd forced her to take another direction, to the point that she had no idea where she was. She looked around and sighed. She hadn't gone up or down any staircases, so she still had to be on the fifth floor. But where was the Fat Lady? Her eyes flickered around, looking for something that would help her find the common room. She paused when her eyes fell on a pearly white figure at the end of the hall in front of her.

"Excuse me!" she called, hastening her step to catch up with the ghost. He paused and turned to look at her, adjusting his ruff as he did so.

"Yes?" he asked politely, looking down at her with what seemed to be curiosity, though it was difficult to tell, as the portrait behind him was partially visible through his features.

"I was wondering if you could show me where the entrance to the Gryffindor common room is?" she said quickly. The ghost continued to watch her with that same curious expression on his translucent features.

"Why do you ask?" the ghost requested, frowning at her.

Raven explained her Sorting into Gryffindor, and that she knew the password, but just couldn't _find_ the common room. The ghost gave a hearty laugh at this, and then gestured to her to follow him.

It turned out that the portrait guard – the Fat Lady – was far closer to the main corridor than Raven had been looking, and soon, they were standing in front of her. The subject of the life-sized portrait (dressed entirely in pink silk) indeed lived up to her title, Raven thought as she gave the password. She was scrutinised by the portrait for a long moment, and then the canvas swung forward in order to allow her entry.

Once inside, Raven looked around the common room in awe. Though she couldn't say much for the colour scheme (there was no blue to be found), she had to admit that the room gave an impression of large wealth. The room was filled with red and gold, from the couches and pouffles around the fireplace, to the décor above the mantle, to the tapestries and portraits around the walls. She made her way up the stone staircase to the seventh year girl's dormitory, and her eyes were once again assaulted by scarlet, this time being the bed hangings and the duvets.

She approached her own bed – the one with her things already piled at the end of it – and placed the library books beside it, then removed her cape, stretched out, and began to read by the light of the candle on her bedside table. By the time it had burned halfway down, Raven had fallen fast asleep.

* * *

The Hogwarts Express was due to arrive in only a few short hours, and Raven was busying herself with finishing the final chapter of the Potions book she'd been reading. It was quite intriguing, and she found that she was waiting rather impatiently for her classes to begin. She'd learned most of the main routes of the castle, and could usually find her way to all of the classes on her schedule, thanks to the assistance of Sir Nicholas, the ghost whom she'd met two days prior.

She finished reading the book, closed it, and stood, stretching out her arms as she did so. She had to start wearing her robes today, since term was about to start. She contemplated the long black uniform a moment before she changed, adjusting the robes so that the Gryffindor crest wasn't wrinkled. Then she pulled on the accompanying cloak, and set her hat on her head after giving short lavender hair a quick brush. She then gathered the library books together and ventured out of Gryffindor Tower with them in her arms.

She'd just returned the books to the library when Dracona sprinted by her, looking rather flustered. Curious, she followed behind the other woman, surprised when she discovered that Dracona was headed for the Headmistress' office. There was already a small cluster of teachers there, gathered around McGonagall, who was standing just in front of the gargoyle.

"What's going on, Minerva?" squeaked little Professor Flitwick. The tall, stern woman shook her head sadly.

"The Hogwarts Express has crashed. I am unsure what the cause of it was, but our Head Girl has informed me that the train has run off of the tracks," she indicated a beautiful snowy owl that was perched on her forearm. "Miss Granger said that she does not believe any of the students to be injured, but has also wrote that they have been unable to enter the cabin, and believe the conductor to be injured or dead."

"So we need to go to them!" exclaimed the squat woman who taught Herbology – Raven hadn't caught her name.

Minerva waved her hands, trying to stop the gradual tide of voices that began to come from the teachers. They silenced quickly. "Poppy, Filius, Pomona, Horus; I'd like you to go with Dracona. I have no doubt that there is going to be a panic among the students that the Prefects won't be able to deal with."

The addressed professors nodded and turned to Dracona, who quickly gathered them around her. Raven felt magic pull in the air around them, and then the group had disappeared in a brilliant flash of lilac light.

McGonagall turned to the rest of her staff, "If they require more help, they'll owl," she murmured. The other teachers dispersed soon after, muttering among themselves and looking very worried. When they were out of sight, the Headmistress beckoned Raven forward.

"I suspect Dark Activity, but there's no way of proving it until I've visited the scene myself and spoken to some of those involved. Dracona will be able to tell us a bit of course…" she trailed off and put her head in her hands. "Nothing like this _ever_ happened when Dumbledore was alive," she muttered, almost incoherently.

Raven frowned, taking pity on the tall woman. "Your predecessor didn't have to deal with Trigon," she stated in a short and matter-of-fact tone. McGonagall's hands fell away from her face and she met the woman's narrowed eyes.

"You agree with me then, Miss Roth?" she questioned.

Raven nodded shortly. "I can see no other explanation," she replied.

McGonagall shook her head, looking defeated and for all the world as if this was the worst thing that Raven could have said. In a way, she supposed that it was. The Dark Lord they'd already had to deal with had been hard enough for them to deal with. But at least Voldemort was human, or at least had existed within some semblance of the word.

Trigon, however, was altogether something different. He wasn't human. Nor was he anything close to the definition of the word human. And he was far more evil that Voldemort, or anything human-born, would ever be able to comprehend. Though that may have changed now that they'd joined forces – or more, now that Voldemort had become one of her father's slaves. Trigon would have likely given Voldemort some sort of power. Something that would make him stronger. Something to make him more lethal, more sadistic, more dangerous. If the power he'd given Slade was to be any indication, than Raven knew that it was going to be difficult to get past this potentially formidable, self-styled, 'Dark Lord.'

Raven strained her mind, exhausting her imagination on the topic until she reached Gryffindor Tower, and even then, she continued thinking of it until long after. She'd settled in a large, worn armchair in front of the fire, her new crystal ball set on the table before her. She stared into the fog filled sphere, willing it to show her something of what had provoked the train wreck, or perhaps something of what her father was trying to do.

Images suddenly began to flash beneath the glass, almost too quickly for her to decipher them. The train, a group of grotesque green things, a hooded man… And then the quality of the images changed. They became fuzzier, less sure of themselves, and seemed almost clouded over, though they were still visible. A large dog, a crooked cross, a mountain range, a lightning bolt… Then they began to come more slowly. A wolf howling at the moon, a bo pole (could it mean Robin?), a raven in flight.

When the crystal ball calmed and the opaque fog once again swirled within it, Raven found that her head was reeling, and that her pounding temples were threatening a long term headache. Verbal prophecies were far easier to determine, but there really was no doubt about what she'd seen. She grabbed a piece of parchment from the pocket of her robes and a quill off of the table. Quickly, she jotted down the images, in their order of appearance – that was always the most important thing. She stared at the hastily scrawled words for a long moment, until she was sure that the black words had permanently etched themselves on her retinas. She couldn't make out a meaning to the images, though she knew there had to be one. But what was their relation to one another? Resolving to think about it further after she'd had a chance to sleep, Raven retired to bed, exhausted in both mind and body.

* * *

The next morning Raven was awoken by a flurry of activity and a multitude of whispered voices. Very _loud_ whispered voices. When her ears and brain had fully woken up, she realised that it was, in fact, three voices. Two of which, from the sound of it, were gossiping, the other… Lecturing, from the sound of it. She groaned and sat up, fixing an indifferent glare on her features and yanking back her bed hangings.

One of the girls let out a scream that seemed halfway between laughter and surprise. At least, that was what Raven could feel from her. As soon as she became aware of it, she clamped down on her empathic senses all together. There were far too many people in the building – it was confusing.

"Who're you?" one of the gossiping girls demanded – the one who hadn't screamed. Raven couldn't see the third girl – the one who had been lecturing – but she knew that she was still somewhere in the room. A little off to the side, just out of sight, which was probably done purposely.

Raven chose not to answer the demanded question and instead rose from her bed and changed into her robes. The girls simply stared at her, until she'd grabbed her satchel and made to leave the room. That was when the third girl had seen it fitting to make her presence known.

Bushy brown hair, eyes of the same shade that flashed like a cats', and her wand pointed at Raven's heart stopped Raven from leaving the dormitory. "What's your name, and why are you here?" she demanded. Raven glanced to the shining badge pinned to the other girl's robes and realised that she was staring down the Head Girl. What had the Headmistress said her name was?

She brought a slim, pale hand up and forcibly lowered the other girl's wand, evoking a bit of power in order to protect herself from any sudden spells, but she was careful not to make the power aura-visible. That would give her away far too quickly. "My name is Raven. I am here by request of the Headmistress," she said, amused that the Head Girl seemed so flustered by the simple explanation. "And you are?" she requested easily.

"H-Hermione Granger, Head Girl." The brunette stuttered. Ah! That was what her name had been! Raven stored it away in her mind. At least now she had a face to put it to, and would probably remember it better.

"Pleasure. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to have a quick breakfast and then re-locate my first class," Raven said coldly, then deftly pushed past Hermione and made her way down to the common room.

She was surprised at how full the room appeared. It seemed impossible that a place that had previously seemed so large – when occupied by one, at least – could now feel so small and cramped. It probably didn't help that what looked like most of Gryffindor was gathered around the portrait hole, apparently unable to exit.

"What's going on?" called a few voices from the back of the group. Second and third years were standing on their toes, blocked by older students who had pushed to the front. Raven pushed past as well, only stopping once she'd reached the very front of the group, so close to the hole that she was nearly leaning against the back of the canvas. She pushed on it experimentally, not surprised when it didn't budge. However, at her touch, Raven had felt a familiar surge of energy trail up her fingertips to tingle through her arm. Dracona's energy.

She drew her wand from its pocket and tapped the canvas back once, using her own energy to disable the wards on the entrance way. As she slipped her wand away, Hermione approached, with her own wand drawn and pointed at Raven. Again. "Who _are _you?" she demanded as students indifferent to how the portrait hole had been opened. Raven simply shrugged and trailed out after a pair of first years.

But apparently, Hermione wasn't satisfied with her lack of an answer, nor was she finished with her questioning. She came scampering up after Raven, two other pairs of feet with her. Raven spared them a glance backward and saw one of them to be none other than Harry Potter, looking differently than he had in the dream world, though not by much.

She was a little surprised by the bandages on Harry's cheek and wrist, but didn't comment on it. Couldn't their magic heal injuries in minutes? Even her own energy could heal, or at least quicken the healing process of, most things. Instead of staring, she turned her head back forward and continued walking as if they weren't there.

Of course, it turned out that she had taken a wrong turn at some point, and as a result, had gotten herself lost. She kept on as if she knew where she was going though, until Harry and Hermione's red haired friend pointed out the obvious with a loud, "Oi! The Great Hall's the _other_ way!"

Raven felt her face flush and longed for the deep hood of her cape to hide her face beneath. Of course, she had no such luck. Instead, she turned stiffly and began to follow the trio through the corridors, ignoring the smug feeling coming from Hermione, and being careful not to say a word. She didn't doubt that Harry would be able to recognise her voice, and she wasn't yet ready to reveal herself to him.

Not that she had much choice, she found herself reflecting as Ron spoke again, "Who're you anyway?" he asked, turning and walking backward so that he could look at her. Raven noticed that his eyes seemed very drawn to the gemstone on her forehead.

Raven didn't respond. Instead, she gave him a cool glare that it seemed he wasn't willing to debate, because he turned back around. But Hermione spun to face her, almost as soon as the boy had turned around, "Why won't you introduce yourself?" she demanded, "You weren't so shy earlier." Her tone was challenging, but Raven didn't rise to the bait she was trying to lay. Instead, she rolled her eyes and then gave Hermione a piercing glare that clearly told her to mind her own business.

But she didn't. Instead, she pointed at Harry and introduced him, then pointed at the other boy, introducing him as Ron Weasley. Raven nodded to both of them politely, but didn't offer her name, which seemed to anger Hermione further. Raven swore that the girl was about to hiss. Her behaviour was very cat-like.

"And this is Raven. She's in our year, and has apparently decided that she is going to become a mute," Hermione bit out finally. Raven gave her a tight lipped smile, grateful that they had reached the entrance hall. Once they reached the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, Raven was careful to part herself from them, sitting at the opposite end of the table with a sea of black robed students between them.

* * *

_Author's Corner_

It's done. Finally. X.x, It took forever. I'm so glad its over. I'm planning on getting chapter six up more quickly. I've resolved to do my best not to make my updates so sporadic, and I'll do my best to keep it. However, I've also gone and gotten myself into a situation where I'm writing more stories at one time than I've done before. And though they all have different storylines, they're sometimes difficult to keep track of. But luckily, if I get writer's block on one, I can usually work on another. Which is good for my thought process anyway. (End ramble.)

I love any reviewers I have left. :D

---Faded.

* * *

Complete: Feb 22/06

Uploaded: Feb 23/06


	6. Grotesque Beasts

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Titans, nor do I own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the two. Teen Titans is © of DC Comics, Harry Potter is © of J.K. Rowling, and Warner Brothers holds © over both of them.

**Author's Warning:** This is a crossover fic. :Watches people close the window.: Ahem. Those of you who do not like crossovers may leave now. The rest of you, I invite to continue on… _Note – Story contains major HBP spoilers_.

**Summary:** Trigon has returned, and Voldemort has joined him as a minion. Drawn by strange dreams, Raven must involve herself in the problems of others, including one Harry Potter, who is once again being plagued by strange dreams. This year at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends are going to be pitted against their most difficult task yet. Destroying a force that even the Dark Lord himself fears won't be easy…

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Demon's Wrath or; Year Seven and Negative One-Fourth**

_Chapter 6 – Grotsesque Beasts  
_

Harry stumbled backward, throwing his hands out to catch himself as he fell. He thought that he'd skinned his hands upon landing, but when he looked again they were undamaged. He closed his eyes and counted to ten, then opened them again, rising back to his feet in a fluid movement. Where had that girl gone? He wished she'd reappear, to help him wake up again. After all, she'd been able to wake him up the first time, hadn't she?

He closed his eyes and counted again. It wasn't like him to get scared so easily, but he was right now. Gryffindor bravery had long since left him. He began to pace, walking back and forth with jerky, nervous movements. He wished she would come back, if only to let him know that he wasn't going mad. Maybe he was in a coma, or just in a long dream. But he'd be able to wake up if it was a dream, so he had to be in a coma. It was only logical.

He shivered and wrapped his arms tightly around his body, taking two deep, steadying breaths. Then he began walking again, in one straight line. Maybe there was an ending, and exit to this place. Something that would allow him to leave. But he'd been wandering around for hours without any sign of such an exit. It was starting to irk him, because it made him more jumpy than he usually was. _Far_ more jumpy than he usually was.

He wandered, and wandered, for a time that easily felt close to an hour, or perhaps two, though in reality he thought that it could only have been ten minutes. And that was how he went on until he met with a dead end. A solid, sheer wall of rock that completely blocked his path. He put his palms up against it, hoping that it would simply melt away, or something of that nature. When it didn't, he sagged against it, feeling quite defeated.

That was when _she_ reappeared, looking more like a wraith than any Dementor could ever manage, and expressing an annoyance greater than he'd ever seen in a Dementor as well. Indeed, her entire persona seemed to be pulsing with some sort of black power – her body was certainly burning with it. There was a flare of black aura surrounding her form. However, when her head had stopped looking around and her eyes had finally fallen on him, she seemed to calm down.

"Only you?" she mused in a tone of wondering. "But I thought…" she shook her head and trailed off; looking at him with what he supposed was curiosity. But she had her hood up again, shadowing her face, and so it was hard for him to tell. He felt a fleeting feeling of his own curiousness, wondering who she could actually be. He didn't suspect her to be evil, but he had the tendency to take things at face value, and that black aura…

"Why are you still here?" she asked after watching him for a few long moments. "It's long after the time that you should've gotten up." Her voice sounded as if she was frowning. Not in a way that would express disappointment, but more in a way that seemed interested in something. Again, that feeling of curiosity was present.

"I'm stuck. At least, I think I am. Last time I just sort of… Realised I was dreaming and then woke up. I can't do it this time," Harry explained quickly. He hoped that she wasn't going to ask him any questions, because he was sure that he wouldn't be able to respond with any answers that would help her. "Can you help me?" he then asked, in a rather quiet voice.

She tilted her head to the side, almost giving him a glimpse of her face. She seemed to realise what he was doing though, and quickly righted her head. "Of course I can help you. But why are you stuck here in the first place?" She didn't seem to be addressing him. At least, he hoped she wasn't. He didn't even know how he'd arrived there; let alone why he was stuck.

"I suppose it doesn't matter," the wraith-like figure said finally, again in that low tone that made him suppose that she was speaking to herself. She looked directly into his eyes suddenly, and he was given a brief impression of endless pools of violet before he was no longer looking out from his mental eyes, and instead from his physical ones. He wasn't staring into violet eyes either. Instead, his eyes were fixed on the deep, chocolate ones that he knew belonged to Hermione.

"Harry!" she exclaimed, voice somewhere between shrill anxiety, and pleased shock. He smiled wanly at her and reached out one hand to grope for his glasses. He felt Hermione push the wiry frames at him and brought them up to slip onto his face, at which time he looked more closely at his friend.

"How long have I been asleep then?" he asked. Her expression turned to one of surprise, and then she shook her head and gave a soft laugh. She didn't answer until she'd helped him sit up, his back resting against the headboard.

"Almost five days," she said, "Harry, are you alright?" When he nodded, she gripped his hand tightly. "Are you_ sure_ you're alright?" He nodded again, expressing it with a slight widening of his eyes; it was an expression that was supposed to be convincing, but it only served to make Hermione seem more worried.

"I think I've met her, Hermione," he said suddenly. He wasn't sure what had possessed him to say it, but he figured that he had to tell _someone_ about the figure in that dream world.

Hermione, however, seemed not to know whom he was talking about, which, he figured, made sense. "That girl mentioned by Professor Seraphlin," Harry clarified. "I think I've met her."

Hermione's gaze became wary. "Harry… Are you sure? Think about what you're saying…" she said, but Harry waved his hand violently to quiet her, and began to speak again.

"She knew me, Hermione. I didn't get to see her face, but it was obvious that she was there to meet me. And I think she knows Seraphlin too," he added the last sentence to stall whatever Hermione had been trying to say while he was speaking, and its addition was cause for her to stop trying to speak over him.

Finally, after a moment of sitting there in silence while Hermione contemplated what Harry had relayed to her, she spoke again. "Harry… How did you wake up?" She asked, her voice almost timid; the tone that it usually took on when tiptoeing around topics that were sure to anger Harry, or topics that involved Voldemort.

Harry sighed, and then proceeded to tell her of all that had transpired while he'd been sleeping, including his conversations with the hooded figure, and then how she had helped him wake up again. By the time he had finished, Hermione was staring at some point beyond his shoulder, though her eyes were focused inward, deep in thought.

Having been expecting dire warnings about being careful around the strange girl, Harry was extremely surprised when Hermione's first words were, "Well, I suppose that the first thing to do when we arrive at school will be to find her." She spoke in a no-nonsense tone that made Harry stare, and then raise an eyebrow.

"You're actually saying we trust one of my dreams for once?" he asked wryly. She looked at him and then nodded.

"I think it's the best thing to do here," Hermione said. "If we befriend her, we'll probably find out more about what the Order isn't telling us, and we may even figure out what it is about Professor Seraphlin that Professor Lupin thinks is off." Her voice was so matter-of-fact that her simple statements kept Harry quiet for long moments after she had finished speaking.

Harry finally nodded, suddenly realising that this coming from Hermione shouldn't have surprised him in the least. After all, Hermione was good at that sort of thing – Harry would have just blundered around, picking things up by accident, just as he had when he'd overheard Professors McGonagall and Seraphlin talking.

"But Hermione, we still don't know what she looks like," he said suddenly. Hermione simply shrugged, a smile playing at her lips.

"That doesn't matter. We know everything that we need to know in order to find her." Classic Hermione – finding the logic in a pattern before Harry had even had a chance to find the pattern. "You know her voice, and she's probably about our age. This means that I was right before – we are looking for a new student to Hogwarts who isn't going to be in first year."

Harry nodded, still bewildered by what Hermione had been able to figure out so quickly. But it made sense to him, so he didn't question it. Instead, he rose from the bed, pulling Hermione with him, and giving the simple explanation of being starved when she asked what he was doing.

* * *

The train ride north to Hogwarts, exciting though it was to be returning to the school for another year, was generally uneventful. There was the occasional argument or confrontation, and perhaps a few jinxes were fired, but the excitement level never grew beyond these simple entertainments. 

However, the train had never before born witness to the power of Trigon the Terrible, and nor had the driver. So when grotesque green creatures began to emerge from the woods on either side of the tracks, obviously making their way for the racing steam engine that had become sandwiched between the hordes, the driver had nothing to do but to try to outrun them. Unfortunately, his failings had been drastic.

Vibrations charged through the snake-like body of the train, knocking over and sending students careening into walls and closed doors as it shook. At first, everyone was filled with confusion. What was happening? Then the older students fell into protective roles, forcing those who were younger back into their compartments and keeping watch.

Harry and Hermione raced through the corridors, pausing occasionally to calm hysterical passengers long enough to find a group for them to stay with before moving on. Inter-house unity was at its strongest, mostly in the way that the students didn't seem to notice (or at least not to care) whom they were helping. Even the older Slytherins put aside their enmity to help those younger students of other houses. Well, they helped the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs anyway.

Finally, robes flapping wildly behind them, the Head Boy and Girl reached the head carriage and the door to the railcar, and were about to fling it open when suddenly there was a great crashing noise and they were flung off of their feet and into the air. Harry grunted as he smashed into the floor, and heard a dull thump as Hermione landed beside him. He lay there for a moment, dazed, before finally rising back to his feet and looking to the door. It was crushed and warped, and would in no way open.

He bent down to help Hermione to her feet and she stared at the door and shook her head, firing a few spells at it which resounded noisily through the corridors but didn't accomplish much else. "What now?" he asked dully, looking around helplessly. The train had finally stopped moving, and was now sitting and seemed quite dead. The silence before Hermione responded was enough to seem deafening.

"I'll send an owl up to the school and... Oh!" her eyes went wide with her shocked exclamation, and Harry spun to see what had caught her attention. He immediately wished that he hadn't.

The window was cracked and nearly in shatters, but it did nothing to distort the image of the creatures that had enclosed upon the train. Massed together, the creatures somehow almost managed to long like one long form. Their rotting bodies seemed to merge into one serpentine length that could have once been covered in scales of healthy, shimmering green. Their long tails stood separate, each as long and thick as a one hundred year old tree trunk, with the muscle power to easily crush one of the train carriages. Snarling faces stared through the window. Faces with short snouts, rows of pointed yellowing, rotted teeth that dripped bloody saliva, and large, pitiless black eyes.

Harry put out a hand to steady Hermione, who was swaying beside him. "W-what _are_ they?" she whispered, horrified. He shook his head slowly. He'd never imagined that there could exist anything so disgusting. He shivered and pushed Hermione backward and slightly behind him as he brought his wand up and used a _'reducto' _spell on the already shattered window.

"Take Hedwig and send a letter to McGonagall," Harry instructed with forced calm. "Send every D.A. member you see up here." He paused and looked at Hermione, who was trembling slightly, but who nodded firmly anyway.

"Be careful," she whispered, seeming to realise that there would be no point in arguing with him. He would hold his own until the D.A. arrived, and then he would think farther. Hopefully, the Hogwarts professors would arrive before anyone was badly hurt. Hopefully the beasts weren't as strong as they appeared to be.

He heard Hermione's footsteps scampering down the corridor behind him for only a moment before one of the beasts let out an almighty roar and it and its fellows began ramming into the locomotive cab. Thick legs came up and sharp claws ripped into the magic enforced metal sides, forcing Harry to clap his hands over his ears in order to block out the screaming of the metal as it became nothing more but tatters. He shot a conjunctivitis curse into the left eye of the nearest monster and had to quickly throw himself to the floor as its ridge of neck spikes shot up, some of the spikes dislodging themselves and flying through the air.

_"Impedimenta!"_ Harry shouted. The curse flew from the end of his wand, struck one of the creatures, and then bounced back off. An indiscernible amount of time passed as Harry watched the curse come toward him, and then he was flat on his back and on the brink of unconsciousness from bashing his head into the floor of the railcar.

"Stupefy!" two voices shouted from somewhere above him. His ringing ears couldn't discern who was speaking, but he knew that it had to be two members of the D.A. He didn't think he'd ever been more grateful for them than at that moment. More jets of red light were fired above and across him, and there were thuds as the grotesque beings fell to the ground. Finally, and just as the Impediment jinx was wearing off, a hand reached out and pulled him up.

"You alright, Harry?" the voice belonged to Neville Longbottom, Harry realised as he took the boy's hand and hauled himself to his feet. He could only nod mutely in response to Neville's question though, and instead took the time to look around. Four of the green beasts were unconscious, all having been hit with the Stunning Spell. Three, including the one he'd attacked, bore evidence of the Conjunctivitis Curse. One still had the remnants of a skilled Bat-Bogey Hex; a quick check behind him found Ginny pulling her long ginger hair into a ponytail.

Luna was standing near the entrance of the cabin, her head tilted to one side, her large, protruding eyes studying the creatures closely. Harry guessed that she was trying to figure out if she'd heard of the creatures somewhere, and wisely deciding against asking her what she thought they were. He was sure he didn't want to know if these were her fabled 'Crumple Horned-Snorkacks.'

Hermione came rushing back into the small room at that moment, her brown eyes wide and tearing up with terror. "There's a group of first years in the back," she gasped out. "I've set some of the other seventh years to protect them…" she trailed off as Harry pushed past her.

"Hermione, you and Ginny stay up here. Think you can hold off any who try and come in? Send off a Patronus if you need help." The Order's way of signalling had flashed quickly into his mind, and he was grateful for it. He gave just enough time for both girls to nod their response before turning to Neville and Luna. "I want you two to come with me. I'll send my own Patronus when we get to the end of the train. If I send it and it seems too quick, then there's something wrong." He paused and looked around. "Where's Ron?" he asked.

Hermione pointed one shaking hand down the train. "I set him to guard one of the groups of younger students along with Dean and Seamus." She said in a trembling voice. Harry nodded and gave her a thumb up, then gestured for Luna and Neville to follow him and began to make his way through the train corridors.

They moved slowly, pausing at each compartment as they went and progressing much the same as he and Hermione had in their quick flight to the front of the train. More students needed calming now – many of them had looked out of the windows and seen the green monsters, or had even had one attack the wall of their compartment. Even some of the eldest students were having difficulties in calming themselves.

Harry only stayed long enough in each compartment to ensure that there was a student in fifth year or above within before moving on, but Neville and Luna would occasionally stay back a moment longer to make sure that everything was really alright before they scrambled to catch up with him.

Halfway down the train they reached the carriage where Ron, Dean and Seamus were. Harry quickly split the three up, moving each Dean and Seamus to different compartments that had previously been occupied by only first and second years. With instructions for them to stay in place, and a quick explanation to Ron about the Patronuses, Harry began moving again.

They had almost reached the end of the train when they found the crumpled wall. Harry put up a hand to halt the spell Luna had been about to cast and bent down with his wand directed at the nearly flat, bent over metal that had once been a solid train wall. Using a few carefully aimed _'Diffindos,'_ and levitation charms to move the sliced off sheets of metal, he was able to clear the path. And to discover the small, third year boy who had been nearly crushed beneath the weight of the steel.

He wasn't dead, Harry was glad to discover a moment later. His chest was rising up and down (albeit very minimally) and there was a pulse lightly pounding in his wrist. He raised his wand into the air, pointed it toward the cabin of the train, and muttered, "Expecto Patronum!" he wasn't sure what memory he'd thought of, but the stag erupted from the end of the wand never-the-less and galloped down the train.

Within minutes the sounds of multiple pairs of feet could be heard pounding down the corridor toward them. Harry raised his wand warily. Hermione and Ginny couldn't make that much noise, if Ron were with them. He was surprised when Madam Pomfrey, Professor Flitwick and Professor Slughorn appeared with Hermione. Hermione gasped and brought her hands up to cover her mouth upon setting her eyes on the injured third year, but Madam Pomfrey spared no time in crouching down beside him and flicking her wand over his body, murmuring things softly.

"You're all right, Potter?" Flitwick squeaked, looking up at him. Harry nodded slowly. "Then head up to the front of the train. Our new Transfiguration teacher is transporting the students directly to Hogwarts in small groups. We'll take care of the rest down here." Harry frowned a moment, then gestured for Luna and Neville to follow, and walked back down the train with Hermione.

"Professor Seraphlin's here?" he asked her. She nodded slowly, but her attention wasn't completely focused toward him – she peered into each compartment as they went by. He supposed she was checking for students who had been left behind. Each compartment they passed seemed to be empty though – they must have already gone ahead. "How's she getting everyone to Hogwarts?" he asked, suddenly realising just what it had been that Flitwick had said.

"Some sort of twist on Apparating, I think…" Hermione said. She sounded puzzled. "She can transport five students at once. I think it's draining though, because she said she's going to need a ten minute break every fifteen minutes." She tilted her head from side to side. "I have the impression that she's transporting students straight to the Great Hall though."

Harry nodded. He'd seen Seraphlin Disapparate in that strange power she seemed to possess. "Was anyone else hurt?" he asked in a low tone. Hermione began to vehemently shake her head, then seemed to decide against it, and instead nodded slowly.

"Not seriously. Just a few scrapes and bruises. I think we had one or two broken bones. That third year is the worst injured, from what I saw." Harry nodded, a look of relief coming over his face. Madam Pomfrey could heal cuts and scrapes in moments, and broken bones almost as quickly. He didn't think that third year was in critical danger… The students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had been very lucky, he thought finally as they entered the line of people who were waiting for transport to the school.

* * *

It was too late for the feast by the time every student had been transferred to the school, and so McGonagall sent everyone to their dormitories and had food sent up by the House Elves. School would open officially the next night, which meant that they'd have another day all to themselves. Harry was grateful for it – he was looking forward to sleeping for a long while – but Hermione insisted that they should use the day for trying to figure out who the student was who had connections to Harry's dream. 

That had been their plan until they'd been confronted with the strange girl who called herself 'Raven' and who had appeared in Hermione's dormitory in the middle of the night. She hadn't spoken in Harry's presence, but Hermione described her as being suspicious. She'd described the stranger's actions that morning, and also had just told them that Raven had said that she was a guest of McGonagall's.

"But Hermione, doesn't her being McGonagall's guest tell you something?" Harry asked. They were sitting in the common room before the fire, having just finished breakfast. Hermione looked at him startled, the expression in her eyes saying that she may not have thought of this.

"You don't think that… _She's_ the one who knows about your dreams?" Ron asked sceptically, shooting a look over his shoulder at the lavender haired student who sat curled up on a windowsill with a large pillow, reading by the sunlight that streamed in through one of the windows.

Harry couldn't see how Hermione and Ron _couldn't _think that she was the one that knew about the dreams. Maybe she was even the figure who had _visited_ him in those dreams. Despite wearing black Hogwarts robes instead of the heavy blue cloak she'd been wearing in the dream realm, he still thought that she was of similar height and weight. Not only that, but the gem on her forehead was similar to that of Professor Seraphlin's, and Professor Seraphlin had been the one discussing the dream telling with McGonagall.

"I just think it could be her," Harry said frowning. "She's a new student… She's come out and _told _you that she's a guest of McGonagall's…" Hermione nodded slowly as he pieced together the explanation.

"I think you may be right, Harry," she said finally. Then she clapped her hands together. "So do we ask her or wait for her to come to us?" she too looked over at Raven, then back at Harry. The girl hadn't looked up from her book, and seemed unaware that they were discussing her.

"We should wait," Harry said after a moment of contemplation. "There's got to be a reason why she hasn't approached yet, right?" He started to run a hand through his hair, then caught himself and dropped his hand to back to his lap.

"Unless she's waiting for us," Hermione said. Harry shook his head.

"If she was so forward this morning, then it's not us she's waiting for," he said quickly. Hermione thought about this for a moment and then nodded, before opening the book that lay across her lap and beginning to read.

"We have the day off! Classes haven't even started! How can you be _studying_ already?" Ron exclaimed, staring at Hermione with wide eyes. She looked up from the book and glared at him.

"We have NEWTs this year, Ron. It's going to be worse than fifth year. Try to take _something_ serious for once in your life!" she exclaimed. Harry grimaced. If this was going to be a repeat of fifth year… He sighed and stared at Hermione a moment.

"I do take things seriously!" Ron exclaimed.

_"Quidditch doesn't count,"_ Hermione stressed, voice holding a coat of annoyance. Ron deflated and shrugged helplessly. Harry simply raised an eyebrow at the two of them, and then looked back over at Raven, who was still engrossed in her book.

A red gem on her forehead and short lavender hair, not to mention those enrapturing, mysterious violet eyes. She stood out among the rest of the students at the school; that was for sure. He'd expected the person who knew of his dreams to be a little more… Ordinary, or something like that. To see such a strange person made him think even more that it was probably her. But why was she so quiet? And _how_ could she know so much about the dreams? He hoped that she'd come to speak to him, and soon. He didn't want his seventh year at Hogwarts to be quite as… memorable as the previous six years had been.

Of course, Harry should have known better. Nothing can ever be normal in a world where magic rules.

* * *

_Author's Corner_

And… It's done! Yay!

_Reviewers, I love you!

* * *

_

Completed: March 22/2006


	7. Mindscapes

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Titans, nor do I own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the two. Teen Titans is © of DC Comics, Harry Potter is © of J.K. Rowling, and Warner Brothers holds © over both of them.

**Author's Warning:** This is a crossover fic. :Watches people close the window.: Ahem. Those of you who do not like crossovers may leave now. The rest of you, I invite to continue on… _Note – Story contains major HBP spoilers_.

**Summary:** Trigon has returned, and Voldemort has joined him as a minion. Drawn by strange dreams, Raven must involve herself in the problems of others, including one Harry Potter, who is once again being plagued by strange dreams. This year at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends are going to be pitted against their most difficult task yet. Destroying a force that even the Dark Lord himself fears won't be easy…

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Demon's Wrath or; Year Seven and Negative One-Fourth**

_Chapter 7 – Mindscapes  
_

Harry sighed, forcing his eyes not to flutter closed as he watched Hermione pace back and forth across his line of vision. He was exhausted. Not only had he not been sleeping well, but every waking moment was filled with work. Not only homework either, he'd have been able to deal with that. No, homework wasn't close to the greater part of his problems.

That top position in the ranking fell to his nightmares, the reason for his insomnia. The nightmares – visions – of Voldemort had worsened since the September school term had begun. They were not only more frequent than they had ever been before, but they were more vivid – and with that vividness came more terror than he'd ever before witnessed.

Quite frankly, the content of the dreams scared him near to the brink of madness. Insanity – an escape from the pain. He wished Raven would speak to him, it would help.

They'd narrowed down their suspects with an urgent speed as Harry's nightmares had gotten worse. Raven had always been at the top of the list, but they had had to ensure that she'd actually been the person they were looking for before they confronted her. It had taken a week. An entire week of planning, spying and listening. Raven _had_ to be the one who had appeared to him in his dreams.

He hadn't known it for sure until this morning – one long, torturous week since September the first. This morning had been the first time he had heard Raven speak, and instantly he'd recognized the soft, yet commanding alto tones that carried her words. It had been in the middle of Charms, their first class of the morning, when she'd spoken up to argue a point with Flitwick. Harry couldn't, and didn't care to remember the point they'd been discussing. He only remembered that he – along with the rest of the class – had been shocked to silence at hearing her speak. Harry thought he'd probably been the most shocked – though the rest of the school had begun to think her mute (or at the very least, extremely shy).

He'd heard her voice as if through something akin to the throes of sleep. The lesson had been practical – and more of a review of sixth year Charms than anything else – and he, Hermione and Ron had spent the majority of the class talking in low voices, discussing not only Harry's dreams, but also any other topic that happened to come off – all of them branching from and relating back to their main discussion.

Then Raven's hand had shot into the air – well, perhaps shot was too strong of a word. Her hand had moved rather slowly into the air, drawing the attention of most of the class. No one knew very much about this new girl – a lot of students didn't even know her first name – and seeing her ready to speak seemed to come as something of a surprise. It was incredible how one small action could stop an entire room of students.

Raven had spoken then, though Harry still couldn't remember what had been said. The torrent of her voice had rushed to him, filling his ears and causing him to gape. He was something less than the level of acquaintance to this girl, and she'd already saved his life. Or, perhaps helping him escape the dream world wasn't quite saving his life, but it was close enough to him.

But that had been this morning. Now, hours later, he still hadn't confronted her. He knew it had to be done. It didn't appear that she was going to speak to hi but he still didn't want to be the one to breach the topic. He hadn't spoken a word to her since term had begun. He didn't know where to begin addressing her – Hermione counselled bluntness. She claimed that Raven was quite blunt and sarcastic, not to mention avoidant. Which was why he was waiting for her to approach him. It somehow seemed safer that way.

It did explain why Hermione was currently so agitated. She seemed to think of him as something of a coward, due to his being unwilling to approach Raven. Quite frankly, he was rather surprised that she hadn't bothered Raven about it herself. Then again, he was also surprised that she hadn't already cornered Raven. He wasn't sure why, but the two didn't seem to get along, or perhaps Hermione just didn't get along with Raven. It was hard to tell how the lavender haired girl thought of anybody. She was outwardly indifferent toward everyone, whether they were teachers or students, and it seemed she was beyond house rivalries as well – though that could simply have been because she hadn't been at Hogwarts long enough to fully figure out all of the animosities.

Harry thought Hermione might dislike her because of her intelligence. Raven seemed to know far more than she should, being a 'transfer' student. Rumours were spreading and bets were being made among the students, wondering which of the two was going to come out as top of the year. Most, it seemed, were sticking with Hermione as their choice – they didn't think that Raven had any chance against the Head Girl. Harry hadn't accepted, nor had he placed any bets. As Hermione constantly reminded him, he was Head Boy and was expected to behave better than his peers. Harry wouldn't have placed any bets anyway – Hermione didn't need to know that he thought Raven might be a bit more knowledgeable than her.

Harry also knew that Hermione and Raven hadn't gotten off on the best foot when they had first met, and first impressions meant a lot. He didn't know that the two had spoken since the first morning, and wasn't sure that he wanted to ask Hermione about it either. She became rather testy whenever Raven's name was mentioned. Which was confusing, seeing as she was trying to persuade him to speak to her.

"Go talk to her, Harry," Hermione demanded. She had come to a stop before him sometime during his reflection, and was currently staring down at him with an accusatory look in her eyes. He wished she would return to pacing. It was easier to deal with – it was easier to ignore. However, he forced himself to meet her eyes. Vivid emerald green met chocolate brown, and chocolate brown narrowed to a challenging glare.

"You said that it had to be her," Hermione said as Harry opened his mouth to protest, and thus effectively cut off what was probably going to end up a futile attempt to defend himself anyway. Again, Harry felt the need to try to defend himself. Yes, he had said that it had to have been Raven who had been in his dream in the summer. What Hermione didn't seem to realise was that this didn't instantly make it alright for him to bother her. What if their voices had only been similar? There were too many 'what if?' questions in the situation and normally they wouldn't have stopped him. But something had been making him hesitate on this. He didn't know what was causing him to do it, but something was making him cautious. Did he want to know what it was?

He hadn't explained the odd feeling to Hermione though, because it wasn't something he knew how to phrase. Not only that, but it wasn't something that he thought she really needed to know. He was quite content in waiting for Raven to come to him, though he supposed it was probably a caution that he really didn't need to take. Was he afraid of her?

No, he wasn't afraid of her. He had no reason to be. No one dangerous would be allowed to enrol in Hogwarts, not when they were this far along in their education, and their personal background and history would be well known to McGonagall before she would allow any new student to breach the castle walls. So his pained 'what if?' feelings were likely for naught. This knowledge, however, didn't stop him from having and wanting to obey the feeling. It was frustrating.

He shot a glance across the room in the direction of where Raven sat atop a small pillow, lodged on a windowsill and pouring over a book. Beside her on the sill sat a pile of parchment and there was a quill between her teeth. Every so often, she would pause in her reading and scribble something down on the topmost sheet of parchment, and would then turn immediately back to her reading. She never looked around, and if she felt him watching her, she didn't feel the need to acknowledge it.

Harry frowned, shook his head and turned back to watch Hermione pace. "Go!" she urged with a tone of command to her voice that said she was getting tired of waiting for Harry to act on his own. To be frank, Harry was getting tired of waiting to act on his own as well, but he still wasn't going to do anything about it. He frowned at Hermione, and then winced at the familiar itching feeling between his shoulder blades that meant someone was staring at him. He spun his head around and felt his eyes widen as they met the dark violet eyes of Raven. He felt something spinning – the room? – and abruptly found he was standing back in that strange castle-that-wasn't-quite-a-castle.

"You look surprised," Raven observed softly as she walked toward him, dressed once again in that blue cloak that swirled endlessly around her, the underside black as pitch, and hiding her body as if it wasn't there. Her short hair flipped around her face in an invisible wind that didn't touch him or her cloak.

"Disoriented, I think," Harry responded, looking around and frowning. "What is this place?" he asked finally. He watched as Raven's eyes flitted around, her face a non-revealing mask of contemplation.

"It appears to be a mixture of your mindscape and my own," she said frowning marginally as she paced to one of the 'walls' and laid a hand upon it. The plant-life surrounded her hand withered and then vanished abruptly into nothingness; a vortex of black space beyond, like a window or doorway among the leafy walls. She pulled her hand back, and though Harry expected the wall to return, it didn't. Instead the hole remained, even after Raven walked away from it murmuring, 'interesting,' quietly to herself.

"Mindscape?" Harry asked finally. Raven only shook her head, not offering up a response to the question. "Why would that happen?" He couldn't tell if she was hiding the answer or if she simply wasn't sure of it. He suspected the latter, but somehow wouldn't have at all been surprised if it was actually the former. It bothered him that he couldn't figure Raven out.

There was a long moment of silence while Raven looked around slowly, her eyes taking in their surroundings, before she finally broke it with an abrupt, "So?"

Harry frowned at her. Was she inviting him to speak to her? To finally ask about her connection to the dreams he'd been having – her connection to Voldemort. Of course, now that she was inviting it, Harry found that his curiosity was ebbing. He knew for certain now that it was she who he was looking for, and to be frank, he knew that he'd feel far more comfortable speaking to her while sitting on a pouffle in front of the fire in the common room than speaking to her here, in a place where voids formed in the walls just from her touch. She didn't; however, appear to be giving him much of an option.

"So what?" he finally asked, voice carrying a rather lame tone. Raven frowned at him and then rolled her eyes, slowly shaking her head to add to the annoyed movement.

"I'm starting to doubt that you purposely initiated this conversation," she said, voice toneless and bland. Harry gaped at her. How could he have forced them here? He didn't even know how to get out, so how would he get _in_?

"You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?" Raven asked after another long pause, in which Harry tried to figure out how Raven could have possibly thought that it was him who had gotten them here. Finally, he shook his head.

Her brow creased in another frown, and the gem embedded upon her forehead flared black so quickly that afterward, he thought he may have imagined it. "If you're doing that subconsciously," she trailed off and shook her head. "When we wake up, I'm going to teach you how to control the ability so that you don't accidentally knock anyone else out with it."

Harry stared at her, emerald eyes going wide with alarm as the full consequence of her words hit him "What are you talking about?" he demanded, feeling his stomach drop with what he expected was the horror he was feeling. Raven closed the space between them to a small gap and gently rested a hand on his shoulder.

"They don't teach anything about psychic energy at this school, do they?" she asked that bland tone back in her voice as she stepped away from him again. Harry shook his head and Raven made a frustrated noise and scowled, muttering something that sounded like, "No wonder I can't sleep."

She watched him with a strange look in her violet eyes that he wasn't sure he was comfortable with. "What did you mean when you said, 'when we both wake up?'" he asked carefully. She laughed, though it was a chopped off, abrupt sound, and then returned to her careful scrutiny.

"You can only be present here if your conscious self is resting, Harry," she murmured. "When you met my eyes, you knocked us both unconscious." Harry stared. How had he managed to knock another person into unconsciousness, just by looking at her? His hand went for his wand, an instinctive reaction that Raven halted with a quick raise of her hand. "It wasn't your fault, of course," she added consolingly.

Harry frowned. "Why did it happen?" he asked, unsure ads to whether he really wanted to know the answer. Raven sighed and gave the slightest shrug of her shoulders. Not a movement that indicated that she didn't know the answer, but one that more meant that she wasn't willing to give it to him. Which meant that a complicated explanation was going to follow when she finally _did_ decide to explain it to him. _If_ she decided to explain it.

"I'll teach you the theory of it, again, when we wake up," Raven said, turning to leave as she spoke. Halfway through the movement, she paused and looked back at him. "Do you think you can get out on your own this time?" she asked. If it had been anyone else, he'd have said she was being cheeky. However, he was speaking to Raven, and something told him that the girl was incapable of being cheeky. The same bland expression was on her face, though if Harry thought about it, he wasn't sure that he'd seen any expressions upon her face that weren't bland and uninterested…

"I can try…" Harry said finally, completely unsure of himself but unwilling to say as much, though he was sure it showed in his voice. It _must_ have shown in his voice, because Raven frowned at him.

"I'll help you this time. Next time, I'm going to expect you to be able to do it on your own," she said. Harry scowled at the implication that he'd be unable to get out again even if properly taught, but a moment later he was scowling at blackness instead of at Raven, and then his eyes were blinking open to view a different scene. He wasn't in the Gryffindor common room, which likely meant that he _hadn't_ woken up, though he certainly felt wide awake.

The landscape was desolate and barren; a flat plane of rock, ending in a cliff that steam rose up from in great bursts. He approached the cliff's edge with caution and looked down, only to grimace and back quickly away from the sheer rock face. He wasn't normally afraid of heights – he _was_ a Seeker, after all – but heights ending in molten lava were an exception. He backed away further as a vision of himself tumbling into the bubbling red magma came unbidden into his mind.

"You don't have any luck when it comes to random chance, do you?" Raven's monotone asked from behind him. He spun to stare at her, not quite understanding her comment, and wondering at what it had to do with the dream – was it a dream?

"What do you mean?" Harry asked. Raven didn't respond. Instead, she waved her hand to silence him, simultaneously placing a finger across her lips and then gesturing to him to follow her. He followed as she made her way down and away from the cliff, following a barely visible path and being careful not to upset any of the loose rocks that littered it. He had no idea what they were running from, but he had a strong feeling that Raven did, that she knew of and understood what would happen if they were caught, and that this was probably something that he didn't need to know the details of.

They paced along for a while, finally reaching an overhang that Raven ducked under, Harry following her into the darkness of the shelter. He pulled out his wand and lit its tip before following Raven further, using the wand light as a guide. The cave wasn't deep, but it gave just enough shelter and space for the both of them to sit comfortably within its confines.

"It's not the best, but it's probably as far as we'll get. We need to talk, Harry." Raven said, giving him a stern look. Her eyes glinted oddly in the wand light, and Harry wondered (not for the first time) why she didn't light her own wand.

"About what?" Harry asked cautiously. He thought he knew where the conversation was headed, but still wanted to be sure. Raven hadn't spoken to him about the dreams in the week since she'd arrived in the castle. Why would she be so willing to do so now? But Raven was giving him one of those bland stares again, which meant that he knew exactly what he was there to talk about, and that it was exactly what he'd been wondering about.

"I'm sure that you've already figured out that your dreams aren't what we know as 'normal' dreams," she began. Her voice was calm and instructive, though Harry could still hear that undertone of indifference within it. His response was a quick nod, which made her smile faintly with what Harry thought was probably relief that she didn't have to explain that his dreams weren't just dreams.

"Do you often have this sort of dream?" she gestured at their surroundings and Harry's brow furrowed. He thought about what Raven had told him about the circumstances of their entering the world initially and then shook his head.

"Not quite so… vividly," he replied. Raven made a vague gesture and then nodded.

"But you _have_ had prophetic dreams?"

"I wouldn't call them _prophetic_ exactly. They're more about what's happening at any given moment, and they _always_ involve Voldemort," he said, then went on to walk Raven through some of the dreams he'd had in past years. He was rather surprised when Raven didn't seem surprised by any of it, and mentioned it to her.

"You're very strong psychically, Harry. Whether or not this has to do with your connections to Voldemort or not, I have no idea, but it is likely that the power is entirely yours. If harnessed, it could easily be used to make your dreams _more_ prophetic." Raven said. She was speaking quickly and in a rather low tone, as if this was something she wanted to cease speaking about as quickly as was possible.

"I don't do that well in Divination…" Harry replied. Wasn't a branch of Divination all that prophetic dreams were? But Raven was scoffing and waving her hand at him.

"I'm surprised anyone does well in that class with that woman as a teacher," she replied. "I've heard that she's spoken two – and only two – prophecies in the past. And while I'm sure that she's psychic enough to make a few impressive predictions for her class once in a while, it's not the same as teaching the subject."

Harry smiled sardonically at her. "And I suppose you're an expert?" he asked.

She sighed, and tilted her head from one side to another. "No. I'm like you Harry; I have people making prophecies about me. However, I'm psychic enough to teach a select few once in a while, if they have enough potential for me to mould it."

Harry was intrigued by the first comment she'd made. He knew that plenty of people were prophesised about, but he'd never actually met another who had spoken about it to him – he didn't count Voldemort. But he wasn't sure if he wanted to ask her what had been prophesised about her, as it seemed to him that Raven would be unwilling to tell him anyway. Maybe if it came up again…?

"Wait… You're saying I have psychic potential?" Harry asked. Raven gave a quick nod. Harry shrugged, accepting.

"But we can't be talking too much about this here. We _have_ to get out of here Harry. Somehow, when I tried to send you out of the merged mindscape, you instead got drawn farther into mine, and I got pulled with you," she looked around nervously as she said this, and Harry could only stare.

"I don't know how well this is going to go over with you, but do you remember the mention of Trigon in your dreams of Voldemort over the summer?" her voice had quietened to almost a whisper, and their heads were close so that they could still hear each other.

Harry made a small noise of assurance that yes, he remembered the name Trigon – though if Raven knew of Trigon, he had a lot of questions to ask; the dreams had been terribly vague.

"I have… Familial connections to Trigon. That's why Minerva contacted me to help you. While we're in my mindscape, we're very vulnerable to him. It will be far safer for us to talk within the walls of the castle, instead of within the walls of our minds. Is there any where we can meet, say, tomorrow night after curfew? Somewhere we won't be interrupted."

Harry had backed away from Raven at her mention of 'familial' connections to Trigon, though he knew that family really didn't mean anything, it was still startling, and something he was going to have to ask her about after.

But he also understood that getting out of Raven's mindscape was at the top of their list of urgencies at the moment. "The Room of Requirement. Do you know where the fifth floor is?" Raven gave him a lost look.

"Okay. Stay in the Common Room tomorrow night until everyone has gone to bed. I have an invisibility cloak that _should_ be able to cover the both of us, and we'll be able to make it to the Room of Requirement and talk, and then get back to Gryffindor Tower without anyone realising we left. All right?"

Raven nodded. "Invisibility cloak, perfect. You get us to this… Room of Requirement and I can get us back to the Tower afterward." She then stood and exited the cave. "And now, you follow me and we can both get out of here before any unwanted attention falls onto us."

Raven was already walking along one of the barely there paths when Harry got out of the cave, and he had to jog to catch up to her. Harry stared down at her hands as they walked – they were glowing black and she was doing something odd, moving them around in what were probably very careful gestures, though they looked careless to Harry. Until he realised that many of the hand motions matched common wand movements. She was doing magic.

"Ready?" Raven asked suddenly, brining Harry's eyes from her still moving hands to her face. He nodded, and suddenly they were standing in front of something that Harry had just enough time to register as a large, glowing portal-like doorway before he was pushed forward and falling through it.

* * *

When he blinked open his eyes again, he was staring up into Hermione's deep brown ones, and was dimly aware that he was uncomfortable and lying on the floor. "Harry! Are you alright?" Hermione asked her eyes wide with curiosity and worry. Harry nodded and sat up, brushing Hermione off quickly enough to see Raven disappear up the stairs to the girl's dormitories, her arms full of books.

'_Odd,_' he thought with a frown.

* * *

_Author's Corner_

I actually have a solitary decent excuse for this delay.

And it is… ---I had to bring up my English mark, because it was at a sad, sorry 67 percent. I've managed to bring it up by 9 percent, but it's still a terrible mark. I'm going to try and get at least one more update before summer holidays start (June 23) but no guarantees. I can however, say that once summer comes I'll be able to update far more often because I'll have nothing better to do than sit and write fanfiction

* * *

Completed – June 4/2006 


	8. Meditations, Detentions and Explanations

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Titans, nor do I own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the two. Teen Titans is © of DC Comics, Harry Potter is © of J.K. Rowling, and Warner Brothers holds © over both of them.

**Author's Warning:** This is a crossover fic. :Watches people close the window.: Ahem. Those of you who do not like crossovers may leave now. The rest of you, I invite to continue on… _Note – Story contains major HBP spoilers_.

**Summary:** Trigon has returned, and Voldemort has joined him as a minion. Drawn by strange dreams, Raven must involve herself in the problems of others, including one Harry Potter, who is once again being plagued by strange dreams. This year at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends are going to be pitted against their most difficult task yet. Destroying a force that even the Dark Lord himself fears won't be easy…

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Demon's Wrath or; Year Seven and Negative One-Fourth**

_Chapter 8 – Meditations, Detentions and Explanations_

As much as Raven was loathe to admit it, she enjoyed Hogwarts. Yes, the environment was noisy and full to the brim with immaturity, but the students were kind (most of the time) and the teachers were usually understanding and fair. To her at least.

Of course, it was the lessons and setting of the castle that intrigued Raven the most. Two weeks in the castle, and she felt that she hadn't learned anything about the ancient school. One week into her classes, and she still had a hard time finding them. Then again, she still found it difficult to make her way to the Great Hall for meals. Inanimate objects shouldn't _move_ like that. It was confusing and discomforting, and the constant changing of the staircases didn't help much either. But luckily, the route to the library hadn't been able to change so that she couldn't find the massive room, and for that she was grateful.

She closed her eyes and rested her head on the table, next to the book she'd been researching from. She loved the subjects she was studying (though Divination was something of a joke) and had managed to achieve the status of top of the class. Hermione, of course, was acting as if she detested Raven more and more everyday since they'd met, but some careful probing told Raven that she was simply jealous and suspicious. Jealous because of the grades that came to her easily, and suspicious because she was a new member to their careful guarded community. Her feelings were understandable.

Hermione was extremely quiet though, and it made her an easy factor to ignore. She hadn't confronted Raven since the morning of her arrival, and hadn't been making any obvious attempts at interfering with her as she went about her own business. Hermione wasn't the type to bother others about the way they went about things – at least, she wasn't the type to bother people who were nearly complete strangers.

Raven tried not to worry about Hermione or what the girl could be thinking, because she had problems of her own to deal with, and hardly had the time or patience to worry about her classmates. Well, most of them.

Raven was actually rather surprised that she was able to do so well in her classes and keep up her practice of 'Harry watching' at the same time. She'd been trying to get to know him by watching his actions from a distance; his friends, how he interacted with others, any accidental power bursts, but it wasn't always easy. Not only was he proving to be a relatively normal person – despite his ties to Voldemort and Trigon – he was also proving to be a rather powerful psychic, though the powers were being used subconsciously.

His powerful psyche protected him from most of her gentle attempts at getting into his mind. She had no doubt that she could get in by force, but then he would know what she was doing, and likely be able to stop her. And of course, he wouldn't trust her, and that would utterly destroy all that she was trying to do.

So instead, Raven had sat in wait, intending on eventually speaking to Harry, but not daring to approach him too quickly. Her plans though, had been thrown out of the window that night when she'd accidentally met his eyes and they'd been again drawn into the mindscapes. It shouldn't have happened – her shields should have been stronger than that – but it had, proving to her not only that Harry's psychic potential was, but how out of control it was. (Of course, she'd only found out the latter after speaking with him).

Raven had gone to bed that night wondering if the Headmistress knew how out of control some of the students in her school were. Granted, there weren't _many_ with a powerful enough psychic gift to disturb very much, and the warding on the school was sure to protect the other residents of the building from anything too severe, but all the same, it seemed that Raven was going to have to speak to the Headmistress about it.

Of course, Harry was one priority that she would have to deal with herself. His was probably the strongest gift in the school – of the ones she could feel, anyway – likely because of his connection to Voldemort, though she wasn't sure that this was necessarily true – she'd have to do more research on the subject. Harry's gift was the most distracting to her, and likely the most dangerous to the surroundings.

So of course, she'd arranged a meeting with him in the physical world, and offered to help him train his gifts, probably not one of the brightest ideas she'd ever had. She was supposed to be keeping her involvement in this to a select group of people – it couldn't be leaked to the Dark side of the Wizarding world. Yet Harry was directly connected to that world, just as she was. But Harry didn't know the skills he needed to shield against Voldemort, and if Voldemort caught wind that Raven was involved and passed the news on to Trigon… Well, the results weren't something she would want to deal with.

Yet she still sat in the library, waiting for the day to come to a close so that she could meet Harry in the 'Room of Requirement' that he had mentioned.

She sighed, and had just started her research again when a ringing noise echoed through the otherwise silent library. Raven's hand shot instantly for her book bag, the familiarity of the tone of her Titan's communicator making her heart jump, despite the thoughts crossing her mind of electronic devices not being able to work in Hogwarts.

"_What is that?_" Madam Pince, the librarian, hissed as she came around the corner to investigate the noise in her strictly guarded sanctuary. Raven grimaced at the stare the woman gave her, then grabbed her bag and left the room at a quick pace, just as the stern woman started screaming at her to 'take the racket where it belongs.'

Once in the hall, Raven slipped the still singing, bright yellow device from her bag and stared at the emblem on it fondly before flipping it open. "Is this important?" she asked in a bland tone. Her eyes, however, sparkled with restrained happiness as Robin's face appeared on the small screen.

"Nice to see you too, Raven," Robin said, too accustomed to Raven's bluntness to let it affect him.

"Yeah! I mean, it's been _two weeks_ and you haven't called us _once_," Beast Boy's voice complained. Raven grumbled and hefted her book bag over her shoulder, then began walking down the hall with the intention of going to the Gryffindor Common Room. The small communication device remained open in her palm and she listened to her friends talk as she climbed staircase after staircase, finally halting in front of the Fat Lady.

"Just a minute," she murmured to the team as she gave the password. The Fat Lady raised an eyebrow at her, no doubt wondering who she was talking to, but swung forward to let her through the portrait hole without comment. Once Raven had settled in her usual window ledge, she began to converse again.

"Have there been any problems at home?" she asked, rather concerned despite knowing that the four could take care of themselves.

"Nothing we haven't been able to handle. It's been quiet since you left," Cyborg assured. Raven nodded, relieved. She'd been worried that something might have happened. Perhaps it _was_ a good idea to call them every once in a while.

"Everything is alright on your end? There haven't been any problems with Trigon yet? Do you need our help?" Robin's questions were in quick succession, and Raven wasn't sure if he was worried about her or if he simply thought the team needed another challenge. She rather hoped that it was the former.

"Everything's fine, Robin. I haven't seen hide nor hair of Trigon since arriving, and doubt that I'm going to encounter him anytime soon. I _am_ however enjoying the experience. There's a lot here that I can learn." Raven smiled briefly.

Robin, however, frowned. "So, you don't think you're going to be coming home anytime soon?" he asked. Starfire made a noise in the background, but Raven was unable to identify the exact emotion expressed within it.

"I'm going to come back for Christmas, and then come back to finish the year," Raven explained slowly. Robin sighed, seemed to think a moment, and then nodded.

"I want you to call us at the end of every week. Every… Friday evening, your time. If you don't call, I'm going to assume that something's happened." Robin's voice was calm, and leader-like. Raven nodded.

"I will," she replied. "I'll speak with you Friday then," and with that, she flipped the cover shut on the device. She sighed and leaned back into the comforting embrace of the armchair once she'd returned the communicator to her bag.

It dawned on her as she was relaxing that she was overdue for a long meditation session. _Long_ overdue. It was no wonder she'd been edgy as of late. But where would she be able to sit undisturbed long enough to be able to concentrate? Not anywhere in the castle, that was for sure. Perhaps somewhere on the grounds…? Raven turned her head and peered out of the window, then sighed and shook her head. There were too many students on the grounds, enjoying the sunny September day.

Where then? Raven's eyes studied the grounds further, and then narrowed as they skimmed the thick canopy of the Forbidden Forest. It was off-limits, so there wouldn't be anyone there but the animals and magical creatures that lived there. It would be the perfect place to sit and meditate.

Her mind made up, Raven made a quick trip to her dormitory to grab her light school cloak and meditation mirror and to drop off her book bag, and then progressed down to the grounds, eventually reaching them after taking three wrong turns (and ending up in the dungeons). She made her way along the shore of the lake, glancing around furtively, but not stopping even when she caught some of the students looking at her curiously.

A final glance around and she was hidden within the thick foliage of the bushes and trees. It was cooler in here, but the thick forest walls cut off all sound, save for the chirruping of birds that came from within the forest itself. It was incredibly peaceful here.

Raven walked through the forest, holding her cloak around her to shield herself from the progressively increasing cold. She didn't stop walking until she'd reached a small hollow of water, not quite large enough to be considered a pond. The water in it was miraculously clear, fed by a small stream that likely ran through the entire forest and eventually ended up in the lake. She seated herself next to the pond with a smile and floated her mirror in the air before her, wrapped in a tendril of black energy.

She closed her eyes and allowed her body to float just a few inches off of the ground, and after a few moments of concentration, was able to enter into a trance, subconsciously speaking her mantra in a soft chant.

She had lost all sense of time – she always did when meditating – and so had no idea how long she had been there when the vision hit her. Voldemort, bowing to Trigon. Trigon's eyes piercing through her in a ferocious glare. And then she was falling, and her eyes were snapping open to an angry voice above her.

"_What'd'ya think yer doin' 'ere?_" Raven grimaced and snatched up her mirror from where it had fallen, millimetres from the hollow of water, then stood and brushed off her cloak as she turned her eyes upward to see whose voice it was that was able to thunder at her so loudly.

Hagrid, Hogwarts' half-giant groundkeeper stood above her, an annoyed look on his face. "Students 'ren't suppos'd t'be 'ere." He scolded, laying one hand on her shoulder and steering her away from her meditation spot and out of the forest. "Now… Yer Head of House be Professor Seraphlin, righ'?"

Raven nodded, pulling away from the hand on her shoulder as they walked across the ground, but not making any other movements to get away from him, lest Hagrid take it the wrong way and decide that she needed to be _carried_ to Dracona's office.

The woman was (unfortunately) there when they arrived, and answered Hagrid's knock on the door with pursed lips. She was wearing elegant violet robes with delicate silver embroidery around the cuffs and bottom hem, and it appeared that she was planning on going somewhere, likely that evening.

"Yes?" she demanded, standing back to allow Hagrid to steer Raven into the office.

"Found 'er in the middle o' the for'st, Professor Seraphlin," Hagrid explained calmly. Dracona let out an exasperated sigh.

"Very well. Thank you, Hagrid," it was obvious that she was trying to give a pleasant smile, but it came out as more of a leer. Hagrid nodded and quickly left the room, leaving Dracona to round on Raven.

"Must you get yourself into trouble?" the woman demanded. Raven raised her eyebrows as she took a seat in one of the chairs in front of the desk that sat near one wall of the room. "Why were you in the forest?" It appeared that Dracona was trying to calm herself, but she was still emitting torrents of energy that she shouldn't have been releasing.

"I was meditating," Raven stated bluntly. The woman scowled at her, but didn't appear to be up to arguing.

"20 points from Gryffindor and detention with Mr Filch on Monday and Tuesday, 8 o'clock sharp in the Entrance Hall. I don't have time to deal with this today. You'll receive an owl Monday morning reminding you and expressing the details of your punishment." Dracona said, abruptly pointing at the office door in dismissal as she finished speaking.

Raven scowled at the woman in front of her, but didn't bother arguing. Instead, she stood and left the room, moving in a stiff walk. She wasn't quite _angry_, but she _was_ annoyed. Not only had she gotten detention for doing something that Dracona _knew_ was _necessary_, but Dracona wasn't acting the way she had before term had started. There hardly seemed to be a semblance of the way the woman had been when they had first met. What was going on?

She had dismissed and nearly forgotten Dracona's behaviour by the time she returned to the Gryffindor Common Room to find that there were far more people in the Common Room than there had been when she had left, Harry being one of them. She met his eyes for a brief moment and then turned and proceeded to climb the stairs to the girl's dormitory.

* * *

It was 11 o'clock when she finally returned to the nearly deserted common room. She glanced around once, eyes taking in the occasional flickering of the dying flames in the hearth, and the litter across the tables that hadn't yet been cleaned up, before they finally came to rest on Harry, who was sitting unobtrusively in a pouffle, something clenched in his lap. 

She made her way across the common room and perched on the edge of the chair that sat closest to his. "Where are we going?"

"The Room of Requirement. It's on the fifth floor, and shouldn't be too hard to get to," he unfolded the silvery piece of material in his lap and swept it across his knees. Raven gaped as his legs disappeared, enabling her to see the previously hidden couch beneath them.

"Incredible…" she murmured, standing as Harry did so. He let out a soft laugh and nodded, then looked around the common room once before bringing the cloak around and draping it over top of both of them.

"Stay close," Harry said. Raven nodded shortly, though she was standing behind him and knew he'd be unable to see her. She had already gotten in enough trouble today, she didn't need a teacher catching sight of her feet and catching them.

They made it to the fifth floor corridor without incident, and without spotting anyone on their way, except once when the Grey Lady floated by a joining of two corridors. Luckily, she was going in the other direction.

Raven looked up and down the stretch of hallway, thinking it to be rather monotonous. "So… Where's this room?" she asked, voice a low whisper in Harry's ear.

He turned his head to grin at her, and mouthed 'follow me' before beginning to pace back and forth up and down the hall. By the third length, Raven was dragging her feet, and glad when Harry came to an abrupt stop. He pointed at a section in the wall, and she turned her head and gaped. Where there had been only a solid stone wall before there was now a heavy iron door in its place, cracks running through it likely caused by the vines that seemed to be over taking it. Harry raised an eyebrow at her, and she shrugged as they approached the door and crossed the threshold into the makeshift room beyond.

Raven frowned as she looked around the room, eyes carefully taking in the environment of the room she'd stepped into. It reminded her of something directly out of the combined mindscapes. The room boasted the same fauna covered walls and stone floor. The only differences were the room's furnishings – a silver chandelier covered in lit black tapers floated near the ceiling in the middle of the room, directly above a small seating area that held two large black bean chairs.

"Smart room," Raven commented. Harry grinned at her and ran to one of the chairs, throwing himself down in it and putting his carefully folded invisibility cloak on the floor next to him as Raven took a seat in her own bean chair.

"So, you wanted to talk?" Harry asked. Raven watched him carefully. He seemed serious enough about wanting to know what was going on, which surprised her, because she knew that it was a leap into something completely unknown to him. But as well as being surprised, she was also rather impressed by his attitude – something she didn't often feel for people she barely knew. It was a good sign.

"Okay, before we start, I want you to remember that this _is _magic, albeit a type of magic that you're probably not used to," Raven introduced, carefully watching Harry's face for any kind of reaction. She got one – humorous disgust. "What's that look for?"

"You sound like the old Potions professor on the first day of class first year, lecturing about how none of us would recognise potion-making for what it was," Harry replied dryly.

Raven grimaced. "I'm somehow thinking that sounding like the old Potions professor isn't a good thing," she murmured.

"Not the best, no," Harry responded with a shake of his head. "But go on. If I'm right, this thing you want to teach me is going to be similar to Occlumency, and I'm going to be rubbish at it."

Raven cocked her head at him, ten scrubbed a hand across her forehead, pausing when she brushed across the red jewel upon her forehead to caress it for a moment before stating, "If you go in thinking like that, you'll never get anywhere and I'm not going to bother."

Harry winced, "Okay, okay! I'll try, and I'll, erm… Be good at it?"

Raven shrugged, "You'll have to be, won't you?"

* * *

Explaining to Harry the basics of what he was doing was the easy part. Trying to persuade Harry that it was indeed possible to form a barrier of psychic energy around himself was more difficult. 

Raven knew what Occlumency was from the extensive reading she'd done in the library since arriving at Hogwarts, and she knew that it was likely just as difficult as Harry made it sound in his constant complaints. However, she also knew that creating a psychic barrier would be easy for Harry once he tried it. Once he accomplished it, it would be even easier to repeat, until he could do it without her coaching, or without his even having to think about it.

Except he didn't understand.

She'd walked him through the motions and method of concentration many times, but he still didn't seem to understand what it was that he had to do. Or maybe he did understand, and just wasn't trying hard enough. Either way, Raven was frustrated, and the only way she kept from screaming at him was from constantly reminding herself that not only was it Harry's first time trying something like this, but it was also late at night.

"Why don't we take a break for tonight?" Raven asked finally, watching the strained expression on Harry's face quickly turn to one of relief. "You need to practice this though, and once you get the shield in place we'll work on strengthening it. Eventually, this will help with your Occlumency too."

Harry frowned at her, "I don't doubt that." He picked up his invisibility cloak and made a move to toss it over himself when Raven interrupted.

"I said I'd get us back to the Tower, remember?" she smiled at Harry's surprised look, and gestured him over to her. "It's something like Apparition… Except it isn't blocked by the school's wards. Come on," still with that rather surprised look on his face, Harry slowly stepped over to her.

She spread her hands and wrapped them both in her aura, transporting them instantly back to the Tower. Harry stared around the room and then at Raven, "That's how Professor Seraphlin got us to the school. The rumours are true then, about the two of you being related?"

Raven grimaced and felt like gagging, "Related? Hardly," she assured him. "The same brand of magic, that's all."

Harry raised an eyebrow at her and she stared him down, annoyed, until he turned away. "I believe you," he said in a tone that she couldn't quite decipher. She thought it might be saying that he didn't believe her at all.

"Thanks, by the way," Harry finally said, before waving and starting toward his dormitory. "I'll be sure to practice."

Raven nodded, "Make sure you do," and then he was gone, around a bend in the staircase. Raven squinted up after him in the dark and shook her head before heading up toward her own dormitory. Everything they did was happening without incident. It was only a matter of time before something big went down, and somehow, she was sure that she and Harry would be in the thick of it.

Harry had to be ready, because as much as she didn't want to involve him, she knew that he was as much involved in this as she was. She had her enemy in Trigon, he had his enemy in Voldemort, and their enemies were working together. It was awful, really.

The two had to be stopped before they managed to destroy anything, though she knew it wouldn't happen that way. She'd have her prophetic dreams, and Harry would have his, but they wouldn't stop anything until it was too late. She was sure Harry was just as aware of it as she was. She _hoped_ Harry was just as aware of it as she was.

It was going to be a long year.

* * *

_Author's Corner_

I try not to write Hagrid as much as possible, and I think that you can see why. His accent is _brutal_, and I ended up writing it half-Cockney x.X. And before it gets pointed out to me, I do realise that Dracona has changed drastically since she was first introduced. I assure you, she is still in character. :D

Oh, and Frostflower, I live just north of Toronto (Canada) D

Until next time—

* * *

Completed – July 18/06 


	9. The Unseeable Being

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Titans, nor do I own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the two. Teen Titans is © of DC Comics, Harry Potter is © of J.K. Rowling, and Warner Brothers holds © over both of them.

**Author's Warning:** This is a crossover fic. :Watches people close the window.: Ahem. Those of you who do not like crossovers may leave now. The rest of you, I invite to continue on…

**Summary:** Trigon has returned, and Voldemort has joined him as a minion. Drawn by strange dreams, Raven must involve herself in the problems of others, including one Harry Potter, who is once again being plagued by strange dreams. This year at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends are going to be pitted against their most difficult task yet. Destroying a force that even the Dark Lord himself fears won't be easy…

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Demon's Wrath, or; Year Seven and Negative One-Fourth**

_Chapter 9 – The Un-see-able Being_

It was a dreary, dull day for September, and it had been raining off and on for a week. Not the best environment for cheery moods, but probably the best one for studying – if you didn't want to go outside, then what else was there to do? Of course, Hermione studied most of the time (unless Harry and Ron worked extremely hard at stopping her) and she was doing much the same today. Though it wasn't exactly something to do with school that she was researching.

Something was happening in the school. It was as if the walls themselves were whispering to the occupants of the building that something bad was going to happen and sometime soon. So Hermione had taken it upon herself to research any instances when the castle had been known to do such a thing before.

She'd found many, most of them during the times of very famous dark wizards, the most recent documented occurrence actually at the end of Voldemort's first reign. And now it was happening again, and not only did it coincide with all of the attacks that were happening around Britain, it also coincided with Raven's arrival at the castle.

Hermione very strongly disliked Raven, and not because she was jealous – or well, not _really_ because she was jealous. No, Hermione disliked Raven because she was new. Because she was new, and because she too had noticed the similarities between the girl who was sharing her dormitory and their new Head of House. In fact, she was quite sure that she was the first to notice the aforementioned similarities.

When they became a common topic on the lips of the students though, that was when Hermione started to do her research on Raven and Professor Dracona Seraphlin. What she'd found hadn't impressed her. In fact, it had downright scared her. Scared her so much that she refused to repeat her findings to anyone, even Harry and Ron.

Why had McGonagall let them into the school? Surely, surely she had to know the background of the new _things_ that she had brought in. Hermione felt that it was her duty as Head Girl to bring it up to the Headmistress, but… She was just too afraid to. What if Seraphlin found out? What would she do?

Of course, if McGonagall already knew and Hermione went to her in a fit of panic, it would be incredibly embarrassing. Embarrassing, but well worth it if she was going to help to save the school. But what if it wasn't Raven and Seraphlin that the castle was worried about? What if it was something else? It was all so confusing, and she was the farthest thing from fully aware of everything that was going on.

She knew, without a doubt that there was something going on within the school that she and Harry hadn't been made aware of. She was sure that Harry knew it too – it likely had something to do with the nightmares that he had been having lately. But Harry had become withdrawn and irritable again lately, and he was unwilling to talk as much to Hermione and Ron about whatever was going on.

And when Harry became withdrawn about things that were happening to him, it usually meant bad news for the rest of them. When Harry refused to talk even when they tried to pry, it usually meant that things were even worse. And when Harry snapped that it was none of her business, well, not only did Hermione get annoyed, she also became incredibly worried.

Harry lay back on his bed, closed his eyes and rubbed his fingers roughly across the thin scar that marred his forehead. Raven's psychic lessons were different from Occlumency in that they didn't cause it to ache, but that seemed to be the only difference for him. They were still as difficult, despite Raven being a better teacher than Snape.

However, both Raven and Snape were alike in that they had told him to practice. With Snape, he had felt he had an excuse not to practice – Snape had never actually taught him what to do. With Raven however, he had clear step by step instructions; focus on what you want done, imagine a bubble of pure light around you, imagine that bubble being able to bounce off any psychic attacker. It was all very well in theory – he'd mentioned it being like a psychic _Protego_ spell and she'd given him an odd look before laughing – but he _couldn't do it._

It wasn't simply using words and flicking his wand. In fact, it was just like bloody Occlumency in that you couldn't use a wand for it at all. So how was he supposed to know that it was working if he couldn't see the results in his practices? Raven had said that he would know if he managed to do it, but when he had asked _how_ he would know, she had only shrugged and shook her head.

He'd actually tried researching the theory one day while in the library with Hermione, but he'd failed miserably, because he hadn't wanted to alert Madam Pince or his friend to what he was doing. Raven had never said to keep their lessons a secret, but somehow Harry knew that Hermione would never approve. And if he told Ron, Ron would eventually tell Hermione.

So he kept it to himself and puzzled over the theories of it alone. Raven hadn't arranged another time for them to meet, and he hadn't thought to, so he was unsure whether or not their lessons would continue. He rather hoped they would – could Raven _really_ leave him with only a vague idea of what to do to protect himself and not follow up and make sure that his vague idea at least _did_ something?

He hoped not, though he couldn't say that he knew her well enough to have a positive response to his question.

His eyes flew open as pain shot through his scar. Just because Raven's lessons weren't causing the pain didn't mean it wasn't there. The dreams caused it to ache, and constant headaches from the seventh year workload didn't help in the least. But he didn't think there was anything he could do about it, unless these psychic lessons would help to block his connection to Voldemort as well.

His mind chastised him for the thought, reminding him that it was his own fault that he'd never learned Occlumency well enough to block out the Dark Lord, but he quickly squashed the thoughts. Raven had told him that what she was trying to teach him had nothing to do with his emotions, and everything to do with the strength of his will. According to her, he had to will the barrier into place or it would simply be a fleeting thing and he'd never be able to hold onto it.

She seemed confident that he would eventually be able to master the ability, or at least, she _had _seemed confident. By the end of the night she had been watching him with an expression of something that he classified between bored indifference, aggravation, and amusement. It wasn't a look he appreciated, not from someone who wanted him to learn something of use from them.

Clearly, Raven wasn't a patient teacher. Though Harry figured that she had said as much that night in the mindscape when she had mentioned that she could teach a select few. Though she hadn't said much about her teaching _skills_, only that she could teach (and it had sounded like a maybe.)

But well, he _was _being taught by Raven. Whether he was learning anything or not was irrelevant, really. She was still trying, and he thought it might help in the long run. More important than her lessons though, was what she was able to tell him about Trigon. Harry was no fool, he realised that he and Raven would have to fight alongside one another eventually, once they were forced to go up against Trigon, and her knowing so much about him would make any battle far easier than if they were to run in blind.

What he was the most amazed at though, was the similarities between himself and Raven. Though they probably should have made him wary, they instead made him more comfortable around her. She had a demon in her head that had easy access to all of her thoughts and feelings. He had a mass murderer in his own head that had much the same access. They both had ways to keep the creatures from their heads, though Harry had far less success at that than Raven seemed to…

Harry rubbed at his scar again before slipping his glasses off and laying them on the short table that sat next to the bed. He rubbed his hand across tired green eyes and then pulled the hangings closed around his bed, before laying his head on the golden pillow and dozing off.

What he'd intended as a short nap had to have turned into more, because when he woke up sweating from another nightmare, the dormitory was dark and he could hear the sounds of steady breathing coming from the invisible beds around him. He wasn't able to see anything more when he pulled back the curtains, as an already dark night had been made darker by the thick clouds that sat in the sky over the castle.

His dream had been about those clouds, if he could remember correctly. The clouds hiding the truth of… something. He walked to the window and looked out across the black grounds. The rain from earlier in the day had lessened but not let up, and it was through a curtain of water droplets that he saw it.

As if out of a legend, a long serpentine dragon crossed his line of vision. He couldn't tell its exact colour without light to reflect it, but he could tell enough to know that the dragon was a very pale colour, perhaps even white. A long head with two curled horns was at the front, and only a little further back were three pairs of wings, the skin stretched between the bones and joints invisible in the darkness and to his naked eyes.

And then, as soon as it had appeared, it was gone, leaving Harry wondering if he had imagined it. He couldn't have imagined it, could he? It _was _late, but… It had looked so real. He shook his head and rubbed at blurry eyes – he'd forgotten to put on his glasses – and then climbed back into bed. He'd worry about it in the morning. Maybe Hermione would know something. Maybe _Hogwarts: A History_ mentioned the castle having a guardian dragon that showed up every so often. Maybe.

When morning finally came, Harry wanted to pass the appearance of the dragon off as a hallucination. From his window, the grounds didn't show any evidence that there had been a great beast on them the night before. So, perhaps it had only been illusion? Whatever it _had_ been, he wasn't sure that he wanted to make Hermione aware of what he'd seen. If it wasn't in _Hogwarts: A History_, if he'd just imagined it, well he didn't want anyone else thinking he was crazy.

So, Harry kept the sight to himself, because he didn't know what else to do. He thought about sending an owl to someone, but who could he tell something to that he wouldn't tell to Ron and Hermione? He couldn't think of anyone. If only he still had Sirius to talk to, or even Dumbledore…

Harry growled, feeling a very strong urge to hit something. He _couldn't_ owl Sirius and he _couldn't_ speak to Dumbledore. So what _could_ he do? Who would be willing to listen to him, without interrupting and without passing judgement, and who would he feel comfortable enough talking to about something this… bizarre?

Harry couldn't think of anyone. It made him feel lonely. As lonely as the solitary cloud that hung in the sky outside of the castle. He thought he should feel more able to tell Ron and Hermione. After all, he always retold his nightmares to them, and couldn't see how this should be any different.

Except it was. He knew that the dragon hadn't been a dream. He knew that it was reality. So, it was different than reciting a dream to them. It didn't help at all that he knew Hermione would try to dismiss it as a dream, especially if she had never read anything about the appearance of the dragon on Hogwarts soil.

Harry closed his eyes and shook his head, bringing it to rest against the cool grey stone that made up the window frame and walls of the castle. His eyes, now that his vision was assisted by the frames that rested upon the bridge of his nose, would not show him what his naked eyes had shown him during the night. It couldn't have been real.

The day's classes, which consisted only of taking quick notes while his Professors droned on and on, were uneventful and left him bored and awaiting the bell at the end of each one. When the end of the day and the time for dinner finally arrived, Harry was rather tired of school work, and spending the evening trying to explain to Hermione and Ron what he had seen during the night seemed like it would be a daunting task. A daunting task that he really didn't want to face.

Frowning over his steak and kidney pie, Harry allowed his eyes to drift around the Great Hall, his gaze roving over the students at the Gryffindor table and then upward to the staff table, which was nearly empty save for the presence of Professor McGonagall sitting in the Head's seat, and Professor Seraphlin a few seats over.

Harry watched the Transfiguration teacher for a few long moments, his eyes taking in the gem on her forehead, and the pale lilac robes she was wearing. He tilted his head side to side, pondering and simply staring to the point that his eyes unfocused. When they had fully focused again, Professor Seraphlin's place at the table was empty. Harry frowned again, and then jumped up from the table, grabbing his book bag and hastily heading for Gryffindor Tower to tell Ron and Hermione what his dazed brain had figured out.

"Professor Seraphlin's a dragon." Harry stated as he slipped onto the couch in front of the fireplace beside Hermione and across from Ron. Hermione raised a sceptical eyebrow and Ron simply stared blankly.

"What're—"

"No, wait. Listen," Harry said, cutting across whatever Ron had been about to say and telling them in a low voice about the dragon he'd seen during the night, and then about the colour Seraphlin's robes had been that day. He received blank looks from both in response.

"Harry, people don't turn into dragons." Ron stated bluntly. "And there aren't any dragons native to the land around Hogwarts."

"Not only that, but the type of dragon you described is native to Asia, not Europe," Hermione added. Harry frowned at her and shook his head.

"I'm telling you, she's a dragon!" He exclaimed. A couple of younger students turned heads to look at them, but Ron glared in their direction and they quickly looked away.

"Harry, she can't be a dragon. Sure, she's different, and more than a bit weird, and I'm not all too sure that she's not got some sort of not-quite-human creature in her family tree, but she sure as hell's not a dragon," Ron stated. Hermione nodded in agreement.

Harry looked between them, then sighed, "Maybe she's an animagus, and her form's a dragon." He said, knowing his voice sounded a bit pleading and hating it. Hermione was shaking her head, but he noticed that she also seemed to be chewing on her lip.

"Can't be. There's no recorded instance of anyone ever having an animagus form that was that powerful, and if there was a dragon animagus, she'd be in books." Hermione said.

Harry glared. They really weren't going to give him a chance here, were they? This was how it always was, of course. Harry thought of something (and true, his thoughts always seemed to be leaps that seemed to stretch reality) and they doubted it, but then he turned out to be right. Of course, Hermione and Ron would never actually give him the benefit of the doubt. They always said he was way off the mark at first, until he could actually prove to them that his ideas were realistic.

But how was he supposed to prove this? How could he show them that Professor Seraphlin was, in fact, a dragon in the disguise of a woman? It sounded bizarre even within his mind, but Harry was certain that he was right here. He couldn't explain what it was that had made him make the decision, not exactly, but he was sure that whatever was telling him that Seraphlin was a dragon was accurate.

"Harry?" Hermione asked timidly. Harry glanced at her, noticing that her large brown eyes were pleading. He blinked at her, to show that he was listening, and then turned his gaze to focus on the fire that was crackling merrily in the grate.

"Harry, why did the colour of her robes make you think that she was a dragon?" Hermione asked. Harry frowned, annoyed that she had asked him what he was wondering himself.

"I don't really think it was her robes. Not entirely. I think it had something to do with that jewel thing on her forehead too. I mean, I couldn't really tell what colour the dragon was, but it's possible that it could have been almost the same colour, right?"

Hermione frowned, and then sighed. "Do you think Raven's a dragon too then? She's got the same marking." Harry turned his head to look at her, raising an eyebrow.

"No. I mean, why would I think that she was a dragon? I only saw one."

"Well, wouldn't you say that the two are really similar? They both have that funny jewel embedded in their forehead, and you don't see either one using their wands too much, and they came to Hogwarts at the same time…" Hermione trailed off, and Harry shook his head abruptly.

"No. I don't think Raven's a dragon," he stated, quite certain in his conclusion. He was sure Raven would have told him if she was a dragon when she'd told him that she was related to Trigon. It only made sense, after all.

Hermione frowned. "Well, I can't see why you'd think Professor Seraphlin is a dragon, if you don't think Raven's one." She said in a voice that was calm, but that was saying in a very Hermione-ish way that she wasn't going to come over to his way of thinking.

Harry shrugged. "I really didn't think you'd believe me anyway, Hermione." He said coolly. Hermione looked at him, eyes surprised, expression shocked. Looking past her, Harry saw that Ron was wearing the same expression.

"Harry! Listen, mate. It's not that we don't believe you, but you come up with the weirdest ideas sometimes…" Ron said, trailing off and looking uncertain.

Harry put his head in his hands, shook his head, and then sighed. "It's fine. Really. I'll figure out what it was that I saw, and when I've found out why I think that Seraphlin's the dragon, I'll give you the solid evidence." He said. Hermione and Ron were giving him the same look – one that said they didn't think he was going to find the evidence that he was looking for.

The conversation however, turned to other things from there. School, mostly. Harry refrained from participating, preferring to listen to Ron and Hermione as they rambled on about various things. His mind was still whirring. _Why_ had he concluded that Professor Seraphlin was the dragon? Was he really sure that he _had_ seen a dragon? If there was no dragon animagi, then how could she turn into one?

Having worked himself into a fit of confusion, Harry excused himself from the couch and made his way up to the dormitories, wondering if maybe tonight, he'd get a chance to see the dragon again. Then he could prove at least to Ron that it was real.

Raven had decided that she was most definitely not a fan of the Hogwarts' caretaker. She was quite certain that he was one of the bitterest men that she had ever met, and his cat (Mrs Norris? Was that her name?) was just as bitter as he. So spending hours of her evenings – evenings that could be better spent doing many other things – with him, was not something that she found even remotely enjoyable. Once she added the manual labour that she was expected to do on top of spending time in the presence of Mr Filch, Raven was quite certain that she was never going to do anything to get a detention again.

The fact that she'd actually done something to earn detention in the first place irked her to no end. That Dracona had dared to punish her aggravated her immensely. She was here to do the school, and this world, a favour. She was doing Dracona a favour. How could they just treat her like any other student?

Raven grumbled to herself, glowering at Filch as he watched her polish trophies. Didn't he have first years to scare? If he left, even for half a second, she could have the trophies shining brightly, polished up with magic, and she could be gone. Of course, the fact that she'd been told not to use magic to fulfill her detention was irrelevant. She'd been using her powers to do things since she'd first learned basic control. She wasn't some common Hogwarts student.

Raven, in short, was very annoyed, was beginning to feel incredibly spiteful, and was finding it more and more difficult to control her emotions as the hours that she spent in detention progressed. So, when she was finally dismissed at midnight, Raven didn't even bother walking back to Gryffindor Tower, instead she teleported, ignoring Filch's exclamation of shock.

Harry couldn't believe it. He'd been up most of the night, but there hadn't been a trace of the dragon on the grounds. Perhaps Seraphlin only flew around once a week, or maybe once a month? He supposed he'd been stupid to think she'd do it every night. To fly around in dragon form every night would be to risk the entire school knowing that she existed, and to risk more people than just Harry finding out her secret.

He reached beneath his glasses and rubbed at his tired eyes before staring across the grounds, watching as the sun rose, letting his eyes slip closed as exhaustion overtook him.

"_Something is strange with the boy,"_ Voldemort mused, stroking his hand across Nagini's head. The snake gave a vague hissing noise which may have been agreement, but otherwise didn't respond, preferring to simply lay there and bask in her master's attention.

"_Strange? What sort of strange?" _ The red eyed man looked up at something Harry couldn't see and frowned, annoyed at being addressed in Parseltongue by a creature that shouldn't have been able to speak the language.

"I have not pinpointed the difference, as of yet," Voldemort replied delicately, disturbed by sharing the intimacy of the snake tongue and switching to English. "I am certain, though, that it is caused by an outside force."

Harry sensed a change in the air, as though the un-see-able being was frowning. _"Perhaps then," _the being continued in Parseltongue – there was a sense of enjoyment at Voldemort's discomfort – _"I should try communication with someone who I might persuade to contact the boy… in our favour."_

Interest perked up in Voldemort's crimson eyes. "Oh?" he asked delicately. There was a shiver in the air then, as though the being was laughing.

"_Indeed."_

Back in Hogwarts castle, two people – both in Gryffindor Tower – shot awake, staring at the sun that blazed, now high above the horizon, with disbelief. Disbelief, and a bit of fear.

* * *

_Author's Note_

A year and a bit. A year and a bit since I last updated. Whoops.

To be honest, I'd given this fic up. I'd gotten stuck in the middle of this chapter (part of which has been written for this past year) and just… stopped writing. I've since started writing fan fiction again, and thought I might try and end my hiatus and get back into gear on some of these older fics.

If any of you reading are old fans and have come back with this update, I have to tell you that I absolutely adore you for that, and apologise profusely for the wait. As I write this, I'm on holiday with my laptop and no internet access, so I'm going to try and get as much done as I can, once I've remembered exactly where this piece was headed.

I've fallen out of Teen Titans fandom, but I remember enough of it to continue this, I think. I recall enough of Raven's character at least.

Also, I want to note that although Deathly Hallows has come out now, when I originally started this, I was aware that it might take me beyond the book release to finish. Hence the second title. Deathly Hallows did not happen in this fic, but I cannot be sure that there won't be spoilers for it from this point on, so I warn against that for anyone who has not yet read the last instalment in the series.

See you next chapter!

* * *

Completed: August 3/07 


	10. Making Amends

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Titans, nor do I own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the two. Teen Titans is © of DC Comics, Harry Potter is © of J.K. Rowling, and Warner Brothers holds © over both of them.

**Author's Warning:** This is a crossover fic. :Watches people close the window.: Ahem. Those of you who do not like crossovers may leave now. The rest of you, I invite to continue on…

**Summary:** Trigon has returned, and Voldemort has joined him as a minion. Drawn by strange dreams, Raven must involve herself in the problems of others, including one Harry Potter, who is once again being plagued by strange nightmares. This year at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends are going to be pitted against their most difficult task yet. Destroying a force that even the Dark Lord himself fears won't be easy…

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Demon's Wrath, or; Year Seven and Negative One-Fourth**

_Chapter 10 – Making Amends_

Harry tore down the stairs that led from his dormitory to the common room, coming to a halt only once he'd reached the base of the staircase that led up to the girl's dormitories. He stared up the flight of stairs, tempted to try and race up them before the alarm had a chance to be tripped, then decided against it and instead filled his lungs with air.

"RAVEN!" he bellowed up the stairs, somehow knowing that the girl needed to know about this particular vision. If the being he hadn't been able to see had been Trigon, and they'd been discussing Raven, then he needed to tell her. Harry simply wasn't comfortable with being the only one to be aware of information that important.

"Raven!" he called again, having not received any response from her, and desperately hoping that she _was_ still in the dormitory and not elsewhere in the castle, because although he was sure he'd be able to find her on the Marauder's Map, he really wasn't feeling up to searching for her.

"Harry?" A soft voice said behind him. Harry jumped and spun to see the lavender haired girl standing there, one of her eyebrows raised in a curious expression. He opened his mouth to tell her that they needed to talk, right now, without delay, but she cut across before he had the chance to say anything.

"I had a vision last night," she said, tone low. "We need to talk. Can you get us back to the—" she paused, and seemed to be trying to remember something, "—Room of Requirement?" Harry frowned at her, but nodded. Had Raven seen the same scene that he had? If so, what did that mean?

Inwardly shaking his head, Harry gestured at Raven to follow him, hoping that she had more of an idea of what was going on than he did. He was certain that she did – it seemed to him that she had spent most of her life dealing with Trigon. Not for the first time, Harry wondered how closely related to him she was. She'd been very vague on the subject when it had come up.

"Harry? Where are you going with her?" Harry froze and turned to see Hermione coming down from the girl's dormitories, her face set in a hostile expression, and he abruptly recalled that he hadn't informed Hermione or Ron about the lessons that Raven was giving him. He glanced at Raven to find her looking carefully away from her dormitory mate, apparently very interested in one of the tapestries that was hung high on the wall in the common room.

"I, ah—Room of Requirement," Harry said honestly, unable to think of a believable story. He hadn't thought that he'd have any problems from Hermione or Ron over his interacting with Raven. In fact, Harry was quite sure that Ron _wouldn't_ have a problem. Hermione, on the other hand, didn't like Raven, and Harry had – quite stupidly - forgotten that.

Hermione was giving him a strange look, one that seemed to combine curiosity and disgust, and Harry realised how his hesitation must have sounded to her. Trying to look at the situation from her perspective, he said calmly, "Raven's been helping me a bit with my connection with Voldemort." The honest truth, but it did nothing to clear the suspicious look from Hermione's face. If anything, her expression became more pronounced.

"Harry, can I talk to you _alone?_" Hermione asked, looking directly at Raven as she said it. The lavender haired girl let out a dry chuckle.

"I didn't need the pointed hint. I'm not too fond of you either," Raven said bluntly in response. She glanced at Harry, "Perhaps later then, after classes this afternoon, but remember that I need to talk to you about this." She stated before slipping through the portrait hole and out of the common room. Hermione stared after her, annoyance etched into her features, before she rounded on Harry.

"What's going on between you two?" she demanded. Harry shook his head and sighed.

"Nothing, Hermione. I--"

"Harry, she's dangerous!" Hermione exclaimed. Harry raised an eyebrow; his curiosity peaked by the declaration.

"What? What do you mean?" he asked. Hermione gave him an exasperated look.

"I wasn't going to tell you, I guess because I thought she was keeping to herself. I was researching her, Harry." She took a breath. "Both her and Professor Seraphlin. They're both really dangerous. I don't know what McGonagall was thinking when she let them come into the school. I mean, Raven's one thing – she's a student, and I guess that's different – but letting someone like Seraphlin in?" Hermione was shaking her head. Harry stared at her, confused.

"Hermione, what're you on about?" He asked hesitantly. Hermione fixed him with a sharp look.

"_Demons_, Harry. They're _demons_."

Harry found, despite the abrupt delivery on the news, that he wasn't as shocked about the revelation as he should have been. That alone bothered him. Hermione's expectant look bothered him more. She wanted him to do something with this knowledge, but he wasn't at all sure what that something was.

"Good demons or bad demons?" he asked, feeling rather stupid. He was only vaguely familiar with the Muggle notion of demons, and had no idea if there even _was_ a Wizarding world equivalent. He was sure there had to be, but whatever it was, they certainly hadn't been taught it so far in his years at Hogwarts.

Hogwarts curriculum, however, had never stopped Hermione Granger from finding out what she wanted to know, and Harry would have been more surprised if she had been _unable_ to answer his question, than by the answer he received from her.

"It's too hard to tell, obviously," her slightly bossy, know-it-all tone was at full force as she launched into her explanation. "I've managed to trace down _what_ they are, but there are so many different _types_ of demons, and from all sorts of different dimensions, with different abilities, that without further information from either Raven or Professor Seraphlin, I don't think I'm going to be able to tell.

"For instance, did you know that Dementors are a weak demi-demon that only inhabit this plane?"

He hadn't, and the rest of the information she offered wasn't helpful in the least, but he was sure _Hermione_ at least knew what she was trying to tell him. It couldn't help him, of course, without his being granted some sort of outlet in which to use the information, but Hermione was bound to give him that. Otherwise, she wouldn't have brought the topic up at all.

"Maybe you can find out more from Raven, since you seem to be on such good terms with her." Harry hadn't been expecting Hermione to mention the topic in _quite_ that tone o course, but he couldn't deny having seen it coming, even before the conversation they'd just had. He was well aware of the animosity that seemed to have developed between Hermione and Raven since the school year had started. He wasn't sure whether it was entirely due to her being a wholly new student, or to do with the trust McGonagall and the other teachers seemed to have invested within her, but he certainly knew this revelation wasn't going to do _anything_ to resolve the tension.

"She's trying to help, Hermione. Whatever else she is, I don't think Raven is against us. I don't think she had anything to do with Voldemort's increased threat. After all, she _helped_ me this summer, and she's been slowly trying to help me now that we've met…" he trailed off. He was trying to pacify his friend, and though he was sure of his success, however minimal, he knew he couldn't say much more.

He really didn't think Raven had any ulterior motives. In fact, he was rather certain of it, though he wasn't sure how much of her story Raven had been leaving out. He couldn't see there being much more to the story; after all, she'd come right out and _told_ him what she was. She's said she had "familial connections" to this Trigon, and if Trigon was some sort of demon… Well, then it made sense if Raven was too. Not only that, but it solved the question of why _Voldemort_ was bowing to the creature.

"Listen, Hermione. I've just thought of something…" he started, then explained his theory about Trigon, carefully leaving out what Raven had mentioned about her relation. He doubted she wanted it to be common knowledge. Hermione, though, could put two and two together quite capably anyway, so he needn't have bothered.

"The Order knows what's going on. They have to," Hermione said when he had finished. He nodded in agreement. There was no other reason for Raven and Professor Seraphlin to have been brought in, otherwise. What irritated him most was being kept in the dark like this, having to struggle on his own with Ron and Hermione to figure all of this out, when he _knew_ the Order was already five steps ahead and doing their best to move forward while not finding it prudent to inform him of all they already knew.

It was a waste of time to have to figure it all out when the information was there, just barely out of his grasp, held securely in the minds of the _adults_ around him.

"Harry?" Hermione queried in a soft voice, breaking the silence beginning to lapse between them. He jerked at her tone. There was something in it he just didn't like. Something almost fearful, and he automatically stepped closer to her.

"What is it, 'Mione?" he asked, watching her face carefully. Her lips moved in an un-Hermione-ish way as she bit down on the inside of her lower lip before she opened her mouth to speak.

"How is _anyone_ supposed to fight against something like this?"

* * *

Though entirely certain she wouldn't get the chance to speak with Harry Potter today, Raven took her time finishing dinner in the Great Hall anyway. Her sole reason for sitting at the other end of the Gryffindor table from Harry, Hermione and Ron was habit. She'd begun by avoiding them, and it had so quickly become engrained in her feet—really, she'd not been at the school all that long—that she automatically avoided them now.

It was probably for the better, really. Raven was well aware the Head Girl held no love for her, and there was enough strain between them in the dormitory. It didn't need to spread into the rest of the school as well. However, Raven was still acutely aware she was going to have to find some way to get along with the girl at some point. She did, after all, have to finish trying to train Harry, and the only way she was really going to be able to do that was if they could stop sneaking around the friends of the Boy-Who-Lived. It was bound to be more difficult than it should be for her to at least gain speaking terms with Hermione, but she would figure something out. Eventually.

Until that happened, Raven intended on continuing to sit at the opposite end of the long Gryffindor table from the trio, and continue to make her trailing of them inconspicuous. Remembering the conversation she'd been privy to through the vision she and Harry had shared was unnerving her. Raven had scarcely any doubt of the identity of the contact Trigon had spoken of. She was entirely certain the thing which had sired her was going to try and contact her, and she knew she had to begin preparing. She wasn't going to let him try to use her as a portal again. There was no way.

She knew, however, that in order to stop - or at least hinder in some way - Trigon from contacting her, she was going to have to prepare some sort of resistance. Though entirely certain the Hogwarts library would have _something_ on the topic of such a defence, Raven was unsure of where she ought to start.

She needed, if not more time altogether, then a definite date for which to find the information. She knew there was no hope of her actually being informed, accidentally or otherwise, of when Trigon was going to attempt his contact with her, but she _wished_ there was some way of knowing.

Since there wasn't, Raven knew she needed to start looking _now_ and hope she'd discovered something when the time came. If she'd had six years of the sort of education Hogwarts offered, and six years of familiarity with the way the Hogwarts library worked, then perhaps she would know where to start. However, she had neither and doubted there would be time in which to make up for that. It didn't really leave her many other options.

For that matter, she could really only think of three, two of which she would only turn to as a last resort, and the third being one she was just as reluctant to try. Even as Raven sat there in the Great Hall though, staring down at her emptied dinner plate, she became more sure of that third option.

She rose from the table, pushing the empty bench back with her legs as she did so, only one thought now on her mind. There was a bit of a dilemma in Raven's third option - getting the other party to co-operate with her - but she thought she might be able to work something out.

* * *

"Hermione, can I speak with you?"

The Head Girl was the only person Raven had seen spend the same amount of time - or more - in the library as Raven herself did. Since that wasn't the sort of behaviour one simply developed over the course of two weeks, Raven was sure Hermione had spent plenty of time in the school's library over the past six years.

It was exactly what she needed - a student who had at least an inkling of the happenings around her, and who was familiar with the means by which to research those happenings. The only issue, of course, would be getting Hermione to help her instead of fighting her. She was certain it wouldn't be at all easy to do so either. Better to start immediately, instead of later when Hermione became dead-set on hating her.

The look the bushy-haired girl was giving her, though, told her that may have already happened.

"I don't think we have anything to talk about," Hermione said coolly. Raven squished down the impulse to scowl at her. Losing control of herself wouldn't help in any way, and she would only have to waste time trying to calm herself if she did. There were far more important things she needed to do right now.

"Look," Raven said blandly, sliding onto a chair next to Hermione's couch - it wouldn't do to crowd her - and leaning forward so no one around would be able to overheard their conversation. "I know we didn't hit it off well when we met."

Hermione snorted, and Raven glowered at her, not at all appreciative of the interruption. She supposed she should have expected it - there was absolutely no reason for Hermione to make this easy for her. No reason, because she was sure Hermione thought the very worst of her - for that matter, she knew for _certain_ Hermione thought the worst of her - and while the Head Girl had every right… Well, Raven needed to make her listen.

Resolved not to move from her place until she finished with this, Raven ploughed on. "And I know you don't want to listen to me right now, or probably ever, but I need your help."

The words gave Hermione pause. She actually looked up from her notes, which was more than she'd done through the rest of the conversation (or rather, Raven's short monologue).

"What, exactly, could you need _my_ help for?" The question was hostile, but being entirely used to hostility, Raven ignored it. She did, however, allow a long pause to stretch in the conversation as she stared forward at the fire cracking in the grand fireplace. She'd let Hermione think what she wanted of the pause - she needed to think of the best wording for her request anyway. This was proving to be a more difficult conversation than she'd counted on.

"Research," she finally replied, and though Hermione's hair was mostly covering her face, Raven saw an eyebrow shoot up. The girl finally turned to look at her, abandoning her work altogether.

"You spend as much time in the library as I do, so you're not asking me to do your homework for you…" Hermione trailed off and Raven refrained from responding to the comment, as it had likely merely been Hermione thinking aloud more than an insult directed at Raven's character. "What, exactly, do you need my help for then?"

Raven forced a tight-lipped smile. "I don't know what I'm looking for. You will, I think. Or you'll have a better idea of what I _should_ be looking for," she explained. She hoped this was going to work. She hoped to avoid baring her soul to a stranger for absolutely no reason, but going through Harry to get Hermione's help wouldn't have worked for her. She needed to patch things up with Hermione anyway, and as much as Raven regretted admitting it, being Harry's friend meant Hermione should be informed of the goings-on here anyway. Better if it came from her than second hand from Harry.

Hermione stared at her for a long moment following the request and then nodded, looking reluctant.

"Explain."

* * *

Raven explained. She explained for four days, over and over again, until Hermione finally_ began_ to listen to and believe what Raven was trying to tell her. Or at least, before Hermione was willing to _admit_ she was believing what Raven told her. It proved to be an amazingly frustrating exercise, and not one Raven planned on repeating anytime in the near future.

Those four days later finally saw them in the library, clustered together and out of the way of Madam Pince, trying to hide what they were doing. Both were aware there wasn't actually anything wrong with their research, but neither wanted the stern librarian to know anything of what they were doing. They didn't discuss the decision, but whenever the woman walked by, both reached to cover their books with the extra parchment scattered across the table. Raven simply didn't want any more people than necessary to know what she was, and why she had been asked to the school. She had no idea of Hermione's motive, and doubted the other girl was likely to share it with her anytime soon, but she was grateful for Hermione's discretion.

"This is an obscure topic," Hermione said with a shake of her head sometime in the afternoon of their first day of researching. Raven merely grunted in response. It was only due to the obscurity of the topic that she needed help with her research in the first place. "Is Harry in danger?" she asked then.

Suddenly feeling troubled, and not even entirely sure why, Raven met Hermione's eyes. She really couldn't find a decent answer to the question. If she said no, Hermione would accuse her of lying - and for good reason, since it was exactly what Raven would be doing. However, she knew a response of 'yes' would cause a similar reaction.

"I was under the impression that Harry is _always_ in danger," she offered. Hermione's expression, having been slightly open, flattened.

"You're not wrong," the other girl replied, a far away look in her eyes. Then the gaze hardened again, and Raven tilted her head slightly to one side, forcing herself not to frown. "But that doesn't mean he should be brought into anything else!"

With only an inkling of where this was headed, Raven kept quiet. She didn't know Hermione nearly well enough to respond here, and she had no gift for comforting others to begin with. Harry was in danger. More than anyone else in this school, probably more than anyone else in this British, underground world of witches and wizards, Harry was in danger. Raven had known that since the morning she'd awoken after her first vision of Voldemort and Trigon.

It should have been difficult for Raven to verify for Hermione the danger her friend was in, when there was so much of it.

It wasn't.

"Yes, Harry's in danger," she admitted. Hermione's face fell and the girl shook her head. Forcing herself to be patient, Raven stared at the page before her, unable to focus enough to actually read any of the words. Though she was an Empath, Raven wasn't al that fantastic at actually practicing empathy. Hermione was sure to be filled with some sort of inner turmoil, and Raven knew she ought to refrain from continuing until she could work through it. Thankfully, Hermione seemed to have a decent hold over her emotions. Only about two minutes of waiting saw her back under control, with something like determination sparking in her brown eyes.

"You know what's going on, don't you? Better than anyone else," Hermione asked suddenly. Raven wanted to bash her head against the table. It was what she'd been trying to convince Hermione of for days. If she'd known all it would take to convince the girl was a confirmation of her fears, she would've been able to solve this from the beginning. They could have been _days_ ahead on the research.

But what ifs and could haves weren't going to help at all now.

"I know what Trigon is," she replied. "And I suspect he's using Voldemort—" Hermione winced, then looked furious at herself "—as a vessel in an attempt to garner some sort of control in this dimension. Everyone's already terrified of Voldemort. Trigon doesn't need to establish anything more…" she trailed off, trying to get her thoughts in order. She needed to present this with logic, or at least something approaching it. When dealing with madmen though, logic was hard to find.

"And with the power Voldemort has, adding this …Trigon's to it will only make him harder to kill," Hermione finished. "But why you?" Raven frowned at the question, and Hermione continued, "It's like expecting Harry to kill Voldemort. You're the same age we are, the same age he is, and they decided you were the only one they could turn to? It's ridiculous." Raven knew the current of anger in Hermione's voice wasn't directed at her, that it was directed at someone else, but it took her a long moment to realise the anger was directed toward Minerva McGonagall, and the rest of the anti-Voldemort group that had asked her here.

"Don't be angry on my behalf," Raven said quickly, feeling a little amused at the ferocity in Hermione voice but refusing to show it. "This is what I do."

"What do you mean, 'this is what you do?'" Hermione demanded, cutting across her. "Grown adults - powerful witches and wizards dead-set on exterminating a foe - often send for you to do their dirty work?"

Even knowing Hermione's tirade only came forth out of defence for her friend, Raven found herself shocked at her ability to hold her anger all this time. It was clear, however, from the way Hermione was speaking that she would be unable to fully grasp just why Raven needed to be here, and why she didn't entirely mind the role she'd been brought in to play. Hermione wouldn't be able to understand Raven's responsibility here, and so she wasn't even going to attempt explaining it to the girl.

Instead, after a rather meaningful glance at the books, which clearly told Hermione she wanted to return to her research, she delivered a simple reply.

"Yes, they do. I'm a superhero."

* * *

Minerva McGonagall closed the leather folder before her with a snap, staring down at the crest-embossed cover for a long moment before shifting her gaze to one of the windows lining the walls in her tower office. She ignored the curious stares of the Headmasters and Headmistresses of Hogwarts who had come before her, preferring to watch the canopy line where the Forbidden Forest met the overarching sky above, imagining her view from here gave her a glimpse of the small, black figure she knew had to be inhabiting the forest.

As though her thoughts had summoned it - her, the Headmistress amended to herself - a brilliant silver doe came pacing gracefully into the office, her large, soft eyes focused on Minerva. The voice that then issued from the creature's mouth was a shock. It always was.

Minerva listened intently to the words the doe delivered, nodding carefully in response to the message. Then, as the creature began to face away, her task complete, the Headmistress met the twinkling blue eyes of the portrait handing in a position of honour, directly behind her desk.

"Nothing we didn't know already," the stern woman commented.

"Give him time," the portrait chastised. "He will, most assuredly, deliver what you need. Then you can put the rest into motion."

"I don't trust him. Not after…" but the suddenly stern look on the portrait's face caused her to trail off, unable to rationalise her protest enough to continue. Even knowing the details behind what had happened wasn't helping her to accept that night. Maybe someday she would be able to, but not without seeing some sort of heroic display that would redeem him.

"I know, Minerva," the portrait said heavily. "However it is _me_ you need to trust here. I am asking you to listen to his information and respond correctly. Not to have him at your back in a fight." She could hear the disapproval in the portrait's voice and she gave the figure a frustrated look.

"And I will continue to do so," she replied, feeling her temper rise marginally. "But I will not defend him if he is caught."

The portrait continued to look disapproving, but after a long moment, responded.

"That will not happen."

* * *

_Author's Corner_

I am the queen of sporadic updates.

And, a note on Raven's "I'm a superhero" comment, before I get torn to shreds over it. It is not ego speaking. The line is delivered for pure shock value, and to get Hermione off of Raven's back about something which really isn't bothering her, but is clearly bothering Hermione. It works, but, well, something else starts to bother Hermione. You'll see in the next chapter.

* * *

Completed - May 20/2009


	11. Tracing Raven

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Titans, nor do I own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the two. Teen Titans is © of DC Comics, Harry Potter is © of J.K. Rowling, and Warner Brothers holds © over both of them.

**Author's Warning:** This is a crossover fic. :Watches people close the window.: Ahem. Those of you who do not like crossovers may leave now. The rest of you, I invite to continue on…

**Summary:** Trigon has returned, and Voldemort has joined him as a minion. Drawn by strange dreams, Raven must involve herself in the problems of others, including one Harry Potter, who is once again being plagued by strange nightmares. This year at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends are going to be pitted against their most difficult task yet. Destroying a force that even the Dark Lord himself fears won't be easy…

**

* * *

Harry Potter and the Demon's Wrath, or; Year Seven and Negative One-Fourth**

_Chapter 11 - Tracing Raven_

Harry was confused. For almost a week, it had seemed as though Hermione and Raven were getting along well. They were talking, at least, and Harry noticed they seemed to be spending a lot of time together in the library. Then, abruptly, the enmity between them had returned, or at least seemed to, because they were no longer speaking and Hermione returned to bristling every time Raven's name was mentioned.

Strangely, since the return of their rivalry, Hermione had begun having foreign newspapers Owled to her, the publications both Muggle and Wizard in nature. At breakfast, she could be seen combing the papers, looking disgruntled and scratching things from a long list laying on the table beside her. She ignored everyone who attempted to start conversations with her, going as far as to threaten to take points if whoever bothered her didn't cease immediately.

After a few days of this, Harry chanced a look at one of the papers, frowning when he noticed the date of the publication to have been six months prior.

"…Hermione," he began tentatively. For a long moment there was no response at all from his friend. Then the bushy-haired girl lowered the paper just enough for him to meet her eyes over it. "What are you doing?"

She made a frustrated noise and shut the paper.

"Research," she said irritably, as though he should have known exactly _what_ she was doing and _why _she was doing it. Since he wasn't sure of either, he ploughed on, careless of the temper Hermione had developed recently.

"What are you researching?" he asked. She frowned at him and shook her head.

"Not what. Who. Raven." The answer was short and to the point, very unlike Hermione, and Harry gave the paper she had shut a strange look.

"You're looking Raven up in Muggle newspapers?" he asked. The irritated look was still on Hermione's face when she nodded. "Why?" He thought she would continue to glare at him for the question, but she didn't. Instead, she put the paper down and crammed her list into her book bag.

"I probably shouldn't say. At least, not until I've verified it," she said, sounding apologetic. Maybe Hermione hadn't gone as crazy as he'd thought, because she certainly sounded like herself now. Of course, Hermione falling back into habits normal to her wasn't too advantageous for Harry, since it meant she was going to be close-mouthed about her research and findings until she was entirely sure about the results. Knowing Hermione, it wouldn't take all too long, but all the same, knowing _what_ she hoped to find out about Raven interested Harry.

"But _Muggle_ papers, Hermione? What do you expect to find?"

"Evidence of Raven actually being what she _claims_ to be," Hermione replied. The response didn't at all help the utter confusion Harry felt surrounding all of this, but, certain now that he'd get nothing further from Hermione, he let it be. He needed to speak with Raven still, anyway, concerning the dream he'd had… nearly a week and a half ago now. Surprised he'd left it so long - he certainly hadn't intended to, but time had gotten away from him - and well aware that _now_ was the best time to speak with Raven, at least, without their conversation being punctuated by sniffs of disapproval, Harry rose from the table. With a wave at Hermione which she barely returned before returning to her newspaper, Harry exited the Great Hall.

He hadn't seen Raven at breakfast, so he could only assume she was still in the common room, maybe getting a head start on the two foot essay Professor Terlig, this year's Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, had assigned. The paper wasn't due for another week, but with the rest of the homework they had, Harry was sure he would just barely finish it on time.

Having much more to think about than homework wasn't helping him either. Not only did Harry find himself trying to keep up with his course load, but there was also Trigon to worry about - though Harry was sure the Order would tell him he had no business concerning himself with that. In addition, Raven and he still met once a week for her lessons (and he really _tried_ to practice what she was teaching him) and Quidditch season was going to be starting within the next week. Try-outs for the Gryffindor team were scheduled for the quickly upcoming Saturday, and it was slowly beginning to dawn on Harry that he may have taken on too much this year, with his Head Boy duties on top of everything else. Far too much.

Unless he was willing to go whinging to his Head of house though - and Professor Seraphlin had already made it clear students were only to bother her in emergencies, so he wasn't - Harry knew dealing with things as they came, and learning to actually balance his schedule, was going to be his only hope of surviving this year.

"Raven!" he called out in greeting upon entering the common room and espying her seated in a chair by the fire. The lavender haired girl looked up at his voice and nodded in return, gesturing to a place across from her for him to sit. He'd been wrong. It wasn't Defence Against the Dark Arts Raven was studying. He knew that, though he couldn't actually tell what she _was_ working on. What he could see of the notes she'd taken down made very little sense, and the diagrams accompanying them made even less.

"I wanted to talk to you about something," he began as he sat down. When Raven's eyes continued to rove across the page she was reading, Harry paused, but she merely waved for him to continue without ceasing what she was doing.

"About a week and a half ago I had a vision with—"

"Voldemort and Trigon in it, talking about making another contact on Earth. I know," Raven interrupted. When Harry merely stared at her in response, she elaborated, though sounded reluctant at having to do so. "I had it too."

"Oh." Harry replied. "Right. What can we do about it? We don't want them getting any more power…"

Raven raised an eyebrow. "_We_ aren't going to do anything. _I_ am working on a temporary solution—" here, she gestured at the books and parchment around her "—and you would be better off worrying about and working on that mental defence I was teaching you."

Harry glowered at her. He was sick of people keeping things from him, and trying to bar him from participating in things he _ought_ to be included in. "You were perfectly willing to share things with me before. Why not now?"

Raven set her quill down and looked at him, meeting his eyes without flinching. Then the eyelids around the violet irises narrowed into a glare of their own. "Enlighten me. What am I keeping from you?"

Harry, who hadn't been expecting the question, gaped stupidly for a long moment before remembering to at least shut his mouth. He didn't know Raven well enough to tell if she was bluffing, or if she really had nothing she was keeping from him. Instinct, however, told him there was something more, and even if it was simply all of the details of whatever she was working on, he felt he was entitled to at least the gist of whatever was happening.

But from what he could tell from the expression on Raven's face, there was no way she felt the same.

"Exactly," she said after a long moment of his silence. "This is my battle. Let me deal with it. I'll involve you if I think you need to be involved."

Harry glowered at her. This wasn't right at all. He'd thought Raven was helping him. She had certainly been more than willing to share what she knew was going on before, and now here she was, excluding him entirely. Harry was sure Raven had no idea what she was talking about here - if there was _anyone_ who was responsible for the fight with Voldemort, even with him answering to some sort of demon from another dimension, it was Harry. According to the prophecy, only Harry could be the one to kill Voldemort anyway - and though it still bothered him, he'd at least marginally accepted it - so he wasn't entirely sure how Raven could assume this was entirely to do with her.

It was irritating, but Hermione's voice kept rolling through Harry's head, the words, _"Raven and Professor Seraphlin, they're _demons_, Harry" _echoing over and over. Raven seemed mild-mannered enough, and she hadn't done anything to make her seem dangerous, but all the same, Harry wanted to avoid provoking her, if possible. He wasn't afraid of her - not by a long shot - but he saw no reason to avoid caution.

Raven had gone back to her notes, and Harry frowned at them, still unable to decipher what she was working on, and still irritated over her being unwilling to tell him. Maybe, though, maybe Hermione would be able to tell him what Raven was working on. She had, after all, cocooned herself in the library with Raven for a few days before abruptly ceasing the activity, just as quickly as she'd begun it. Hermione, at least, seemed to know more about Raven than either of them were letting on, and Harry was sure he'd be able to get it from her if he bothered enough.

That would be what Harry would do. Tonight, after classes had finished.

* * *

If Professor Dracona Seraphlin had been this year's Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Harry would have been _sure_ his suspicions about her were correct. However, she wasn't, and as far as Harry could tell, Professor Terlig - who _was_ the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher - was in no way, shape or form unusual. It was almost as though the roles this year had changed, though it didn't stop the usual betting from spreading around the school. This year, the favoured way for the Defence jinx to act out was through Voldemort. It seemed almost 50 percent of the students were sure Professor Terlig was going to be murdered. Of course since the prediction made the assumption, by proxy, that Voldemort was going to show up at the school, Harry hadn't subscribed to it. He had very little doubt he would come face to face with Voldemort before the year was out, but he didn't want to help that probability along.

Harry tapped the point of his quill idly on the parchment in front of him, eyes tracking Professor Seraphlin's progress across the room as she made rounds, demonstrating one of the difficult steps in today's lesson to people with their hands raised. Hermione kept shooting him looks that said she thought he, too, should be trying to re-conjure the mouse he'd just vanished, but he wasn't all too concerned about it just now.

"Yeah, I think she might be able to breathe fire," Ron comment beside him, looking up from the comic he was hiding behind his Transfiguration text to see Seraphlin glaring down at Parvati and Lavender. "Gets more… _draconic_ every time I see her." Laughing at his own joke, Ron went back to his comic.

Harry, however irritating he found being teased by his friend, couldn't help but agree. When they had met her over the summer, Professor Seraphlin had seemed nice. Now, tough, Harry was re-evaluating his impression of her. "Nice" just wasn't a word to be describing her now.

Still tapping his quill, Harry watched until Seraphlin's back was turned and then leaned into the aisle toward Raven, whose desk was next to his.

"Not now," the girl said, even before Harry could open his mouth. He frowned at her. Her eyes were focused, as they seemed to be whenever he saw her doing magic, on the tip of her wand, as though she could only make something come out of the other end with great concentration. It was a strange technique, to say the least.

When Harry remained, leaning toward her, she finally looked up, a glower firmly set upon her features. "What do you want?" she demanded, voice barely more than a hiss. Harry hesitated. There were questions blooming in his mind that Raven clearly wasn't willing to give him the time to ask now, and entirely truthfully, he didn't want to start whispering his suspicions about Dracona Seraphlin with her standing less than twenty feet away. Harry was, however, sure that Raven knew things about the Transfiguration professor, just as she seemed to know things about Trigon's influence. Harry was sure it was all related somehow, but without the proper pieces, he couldn't figure out _what_ the relation was.

Perhaps Hermione would have figured it out by now, but he couldn't talk to her until the end of the day, and he still couldn't even be one hundred percent certain she was going to tell him _anything_ (though he knew she had little reason to keep information to herself).

"Can I talk to you after class?" he asked quickly. Raven gave him a cool look.

"No. It's Friday. I have prior commitments." There was no inflection in her voice as she said it. She was so matter of fact that, despite feeling a bit as though she was just blowing him off because she could, Harry took a long moment to try and figure out _what_ Raven's prior commitments could be.

As far as he knew, she hadn't gotten involved in any way with clubs at the school. That, to him, said she must be doing something with the Order. After all, she could easily go away for the weekend without anyone really noticing she was missing - except, maybe, for the brief moment when their year mates wondered where the anti-social, purple haired transfer student had disappeared to.

She was watching him again, a look on her face he would almost go as far as to term amusement, had he ever actually seen her smile. "Maybe tomorrow," she said, then returned to her work and didn't look up again until a moment before the bell rang, and then just to pack away her things.

When they left the classroom, Raven went the opposite way from the rest of the Gryffindors, reaching into her bag as though to grab something, and Harry stared after her for a long moment. He had his Invisibility Cloak. It would be so easy to follow her, but… Hermione was giving him a look saying she knew what he was thinking, and she jerked her head in the direction the rest of their classmates were going, so, with a sigh, Harry headed off after her.

* * *

Raven hadn't thought Transfiguration would ever end. If she'd had to spend one more moment with Harry staring at her, or with Dracona's negative energy washing over her, she was certain the Transfiguration wing wouldn't still be standing. It was the closest she'd come to actually losing it in a long while, and it wasn't even a month into her stay at Hogwarts.

When Raven had decided to accept the invitation to attend a school for magic, she'd been sure she would be in an environment more calming than Titan Tower where, though there were only five inhabitants, energy was usually running high, and disturbances were many. At home, though, Raven had her room to lock herself away in when it became too much and she was stretched to the very end of her control. Here, she shared a room with three other girls, one who didn't trust her at all, and the other two who were the most sickening, giggly girly-girls she had ever had the misfortune to meet.

Since none of the three realised the drapes drawn closed around her bed meant she wanted privacy, Raven had been forced to leave the castle every time she needed to meditate. Or rather, whenever she found the _time_ to meditate. Between homework, classes, and answering questions from Harry Potter - who had more questions than any boy her age _should_ have - Raven rarely found time to herself.

So, when he'd again asked to talk to her, this time on a Friday when she was supposed to check in with home, she'd said no. Of course, she'd immediately offered to talk with him later, perhaps the next day, because she knew by know Harry hated to be left in the dark, and since no one was really telling him anything about what was going on, Raven had taken it onto herself to prepare him for what he was going to end up facing.

Not that Harry should ever need to worry about facing down Trigon. As far as Raven was concerned, that was _her_ fight, and _only_ hers. It was the entire reason she'd come here to begin with. This time, when Trigon reared his ugly head, she would deal with him alone.

Until then, though, Raven knew she should be keeping her head down. As much as she knew about the thing that had sired her, she knew nothing about his new minion. She had very little idea about Voldemort's manner of operating, though since immersing herself in this world, and in this school, she'd picked up a lot of fragmented information. She had little idea of its validity, seeing as those she had picked it up from were teenagers all trapped in a boarding school together with outside world contact coming only through newspapers - the most common of which she'd noticed was titled _The Daily Prophet_ and seemed little more than a tabloid - and the occasional letter from a parent or other relation.

It was the skirmishes that frequently broke out in the halls which told her most of what she had garnered, and which told her getting too close to Harry Potter was the easiest way to let her father know she was here. Since she had no intention of letting that information get out before she wished it to (aware as she was that she had little control as far as that was concerned), Raven knew she had to try and avoid Harry more often now.

Of course, she also suspected the realisation came too late. If the children of Voldemort's subjects had already passed on her presence at Hogwarts to their parents, then all she could hope was Trigon didn't make the connection.

And hope as she might, she knew it was unlikely Trigon would miss _that_.

At the moment though, Raven needed to let go of those thoughts. She would speak with the team at home, and then she would get a few solid hours of meditation in, because she suspected it would be a busy weekend, and she didn't want her powers to explode out and give her away yet. She fed the school rumour mill enough as it was.

She slid the bright yellow Titan communicator from her bag and flipped it open, looking around once, briefly, before hitting the button on the side that would connect her to the window-screen back at home.

"Hey! I was playing that!" Beast Boy's voice exploded a moment before the black screen in her hand connected and focused to show her the main communication room of the Tower.

"Booya! I was winning! I win!" Cyborg exclaimed, punching the hand he was holding his game controller with into the air. Beside him, Beast Boy shot Raven a sullen look and Terra, on the far end of the couch, laughed.

"It's Friday. You knew I'd be calling," she said matter-of-factly, rolling her eyes. Starfire appeared in the image then, floating a few inches off of the floor behind the sofa, and Robin approached half a moment later, crowding in beside Cyborg and Beast Boy on the couch. Raven snickered.

"How're things going over there? Any trouble?" Robin asked. Raven shook her head slowly.

"Just checking in, like I promised. I'll call you sooner than our usual time if anything major happens. There's a lot going on here, but it's not anything that concerns me. I'm just trying to keep my head down," she replied. Her eyes flickered around the area again, automatically, looking for anyone who could be eavesdropping on her conversation. She didn't need anyone at Hogwarts overhearing this, whether their intentions were innocent or not.

"You look frazzled, Rae. What's up?" Cyborg asked then. She looked at him askance, then flattened the look.

"I'm not frazzled. It's nothing I can't deal with," she responded, trying not to bark the words. Perhaps she was a bit on edge, but the team couldn't do anything to help with that, and she didn't need her attention brought to her state of mind, because she knew it would only be harder to calm herself if she was more aware.

No one contradicted her, but she could read unanimous agreement in her team mates faces.

"When will we see you again?" Starfire queried after a moment.

"Probably not until June. I think I'm going to be needed around here at Christmas, so when this whole thing is resolved, or when the school year ends, I'll come home. Whichever comes first, maybe," Raven said after a long moment. She hadn't really given much thought to returning home lately, except in passing when she longed for the solitude of a single bedroom. Starfire didn't look satisfied with the response, but Robin shot her a look Raven couldn't quite decipher, then turned back to the screen.

"Well, thanks for checking in with us, Raven. Same time next week?"

She nodded. "Take care. Call me if anything major happens over there."

With a promise that he would, Robin cut the communication between them and Raven sighed. She was learning a lot here, but she missed her friends back at home. Sometimes, like now, a lot more strongly than at other times.

She let the thoughts go though, and tucked the communication device back into her bag, which she then settled beneath her school cloak. She needed to relax, let go and meditate, and though she was in an open place by the lake - she hadn't ventured back into the forest since being caught there by the groundskeeper - she was _going_ to get her quota in for the day, at least.

"Azarath, Metrion, _Zinthos…._"

* * *

"So, what do you know about Raven that you're not telling me?" Harry asked that night after dinner as he dropped onto the couch beside Hermione, the worn out seat cushion sucking him in and causing his legs to flail for a moment before he could steady himself. Hermione snorted, looking up from her book.

"Now you _want_ to know what I've found out about her?" she asked. She could have made it sound haughty, but she didn't and for that Harry was grateful. However, his gratitude didn't go very far, since he wasn't too fond of Hermione's implication that he wasn't listening to her.

"Everything," he said. "Because I want to know the connection between her, this Trigon character, and Professor Seraphlin, who I we know is involved _somehow_, but I haven't any clue how."

Hermione looked, for a brief moment, as though she wanted to hit him in her frustration. Instead, she took a long breath and fixed him in place with a sharp gaze. "If Raven's a demon, and Seraphlin's a demon, then chances are, this Trigon character is a demon as well. And if—" she dropped her voice "—_Voldemort_ is answering to him, I don't think we want to know anything more about him. You shouldn't get involved, Harry." The last sentence was said with a stubborn lilt to her voice, and Harry sighed.

"I don't think we can avoid that," he responded. "So instead of worrying about whether or not I should be involved in all of this, why don't you tell me what you've found out so that I'm as prepared as possible when it all blows up in my face?"

Hermione frowned at him, and looked as though she was going to argue for a long moment, so Harry cut her off before she could start.

"Please?" he wheedled.

The bushy-haired girl sighed and, reaching into her bag to grab the leaflet of notes he'd caught sight of her taking once or twice in the past week, relented.

* * *

_Author's Corner_

I know. I know. I keep dropping hints and furthering along a bunch of winding plot lines that're all suspense and information grabbing with no actual action. It'll happen. I just have to set it all up properly.

* * *

Completed - May 28/2009


	12. The Calm

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Titans, nor do I own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the two. Teen Titans is © of DC Comics, Harry Potter is © of J.K. Rowling, and Warner Brothers holds © over both of them.

**Author's Warning:** This is a crossover fic. :Watches people close the window.: Ahem. Those of you who do not like crossovers may leave now. The rest of you, I invite to continue on…

**Summary:** Trigon has returned, and Voldemort has joined him as a minion. Drawn by strange dreams, Raven must involve herself in the problems of others, including one Harry Potter, who is once again being plagued by strange nightmares. This year at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends are going to be pitted against their most difficult task yet. Destroying a force that even the Dark Lord himself fears won't be easy…

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Demon's Wrath, or; Year Seven and Negative One-Fourth**

_Chapter 12 - The Calm_

The newspaper clippings Hermione had been collecting, and the stories they told didn't corroborate the story Raven had told Harry about herself. The image of Raven - and her friends in the United States - the newspapers painted was entirely different than the Raven he had met. Harry couldn't see the quiet, albeit temperamental girl who had transferred to Hogwarts as part of some superhero team. Not only did superhero teams not exist outside of Muggle publications - _fictional_ publications - but even if there _were _superheroes running around all over the place, Harry didn't think Raven fit the bill.

Then again, he probably shouldn't be judging based on something a few newspapers said. He knew the way the media reacted around people who were supposed to be 'heroes.' Harry, himself, and the articles constantly showing up about him - most, granted, penned by Rita Skeeter - were prime examples. So, it would make sense for him to go directly to Raven to ask her about the articles before forming his own theories about them.

However, Harry was - understandably - reluctant to approach Raven with this new thing about her Hermione had uncovered. He knew people kept all sorts of secrets, but Raven seemed to have more than her fair share, and from what the knew of her, he suspected she wouldn't react well to knowing she was being researched. For that matter, just knowing what Hermione was up to made Harry vaguely uncomfortable, because he was sure he would need even more help tan she'd given him already, and offending - or estranging - her wouldn't be the best way to continue receiving that help.

Even knowing, though, how much he needed Raven's help - or at least, how much he was _going_ to need Raven's help - Harry was uncomfortable letting her keep her secrets. He _knew _he had absolutely no place butting in, and that there wasn't a bigger place he didn't belong, but….

Well, he was curious. Curious, and very aware that when secrets were kept from him, those secrets tended to be things he should have known from the beginning. Things he would have been better off knowing from the beginning. It was unlikely this would turn out any differently… Yet Harry was still reluctant to approach Raven.

He had also noticed a definite trend in the way he acted toward Raven. Even when she'd been nothing more than a strange figure in his dreams who might not have even been real, Harry had been more than willing to let her approach him first. Hermione had shot him the same looks then that she'd taken to giving him now. _She_, at least, thought he ought to just confront Raven.

It bothered him, just a little, that he was starting to agree with her. In fact, he was agreeing with her so much, he was willing to do just what she suggested.

The decision saw him leaving Hermione to try and catch Raven's quick escape from Slughorn's dungeon after their last class Monday. He had obsessed over this the entire weekend - resolving it seemed like a good idea right now, lest he be forced to obsess longer. And he knew, if this wasn't resolved, that he _would_ obsess longer over it.

"Raven!" he called, turning a corner to see her distinctive lavender hair nearly at the end of the hallway. A group of sixth year Slytherins were between them, blocking him from dashing down the hallway to catch up with her. And unfortunately, while Raven didn't seem to have heard him, the Slytherins did.

"Oooh, Potter. Does _Weasley_ know about your sudden interest in the new girl?" One of them asked. The others around him laughed as Harry pushed past, but Raven was gone and he knew he would have no chance of finding her now. She hadn't been headed to the common room - not going this way - and he knew tracking her down would be too large of a hassle. He would just have to confront her later.

He wasn't looking forward to it.

* * *

Though she still hadn't found a good place _anywhere_ in the castle to meditate, Raven was nothing if not determined. She didn't think Headmistress McGonagall would appreciate her power getting the better of her and blowing a wing off of the school, or causing Gryffindor tower to collapse during one of her spats with Hermione, so if short little meditation sessions were all she was going to be able to get in, Raven had resolved to meditate in every spare moment.

_This_ particular spare moment found her floating a couple of inches off of her mattress, the drapes drawn closed about the four-poster bed to give her an illusion of privacy. Her breaths came long, deep and easily, her focus unbroken by any noise. It was relaxing. She had only seen Gryffindor tower quieter when she had first come here in the summer, before any of the students had arrived. It seemed so long ago, that she had actually forgotten how good it felt to just… be alone.

Feeling really, truly comfortable with her surroundings for the first time in the month since term had started, Raven decided - almost spontaneously - it was time to get to know the school and the grounds better. She blinked her eyes open for a moment, ceasing her meditative state just long enough to move her body from the dormitory in Gryffindor tower to an alcove hidden by a curve of the stairwell near the top of the Astronomy Tower - she'd discovered it one night coming down after class - and resumed her meditation there, in the centre of the small space. She didn't think anyone would find her here, and that was better for what she had in mind. It wouldn't do for anyone to stumble upon her body floating somewhere when she wasn't fully present in it.

Then she projected up and out of her body, into the stairwell beyond.

The black shadow of Raven's projected self mover stealthily through the hallways of the castle, keeping to corners and away from torch brackets, wary of students and professors travelling through the corridors, though she knew she could get away from their line of sight in a mere flicker, more quickly than they would ever be able to process seeing her. She caught snippets of conversation as she moved through the floors of the school, but nothing which interested her enough to linger. Instead, she relished the freedom of being able to _fly_ again, and to exercise at least _part_ of her powers.

She could feel magic pressing down on her, testing her before letting her pass every few corridors, and it took a moment for her to realise it was the school's wards. The magic was heavy and ancient enough for it to be somewhat of a surprise to her that they continued to let her flow through unchecked. When she passed through the final wall of the school and into the setting sun outside, the pressure on her was so great she half expected to be shoved unceremoniously back into her body.

She wasn't, though, and so soared, Raven-shaped, into the open air of the school's grounds.

She came out of the school near the lake, close to the Forbidden Forest, which she sailed into without thought. There was something here. She could _feel_ it, as though some sort of construct had been put up. She neared a glade and looked around it, letting herself simply float in one place for a long moment. There were more wards here, thinner ones than those on the school, much, much newer, and when she tested them, the wards refused to allow her passage into the area they guarded.

It puzzled her. All she could see of the area beyond was more open glen. The area was void of anything but low growing brush and end of season wildflowers that had survived with the constant sunlight in the open area, but were slowly ebbing away like the good summer weather already had. There was no reason she could see for such barriers to have been erected here.

Then she saw the man.

He had come up behind her so quickly she hadn't any time to move out of the way, and she knew, even as she pulled into the shadowy cover of the changing leaves of the nearest tree, he had seen her.

Seen her, but not recognised what she was. She didn't hear the incantation he cast, but the silver figure cantering toward her came from the wand he'd drawn, and Raven wasn't willing to sit in one place and find out what it could do to her, projection or not. She rose upward, extending one long, shadowed claw toward the man, unsure if she was attacking or not, but unwilling to be a sitting duck here.

He lashed out with his wand again and she pulled the outstretched leg back. Then, before she could move again, before she could even decide whether she was going to fight or flee, he was gone. Something had sparkled, something she was sure were the wards allowing the man beyond them. At least now she knew what those wards were hiding.

The better question to ask, now, was why the man was hiding in the forest so close to the school in the first place.

No matter how much she thought about it, trying to find a solution, Raven couldn't. She just didn't know enough about the school's defences or the feud with Voldemort to make heads or tails of the man's presence. However, she knew someone who did, and she was definitely going to find out all she could about this.  


* * *

It was nearly curfew when Harry saw Raven come down from the girl's dormitories later that evening and settled into the seat on her favourite windowsill, a book in her hands. Hermione met his eyes, an expectant look upon her face, and Harry sighed. Well, at least this time he could be sure he wouldn't knock himself and Raven out when he looked at her. At least he was sure, with all she had taught him - or _tried_ to teach him, anyway - that he should be able to avoid it, seeing as he knew now how to _avoid_ doing what he had done the last time.

And last time, he had _wanted_ to speak to Raven, at least somewhat. Now, he wanted nothing better than to avoid it.

He looked over at Raven and tried to catch her gaze anyway, hoping she would look up from her reading and save him from having to work up the courage to walk over there.

She didn't, and it was getting closer to curfew as he sat here and waited for her to notice him, so finally, Harry gave in. He rose from his seat with a glare at Hermione and then crossed the room to lean against the bare stone of the wall next to Raven's seat. When she didn't look up, he cleared his throat once.

Slowly, Raven moved her eyes from her book and tilted her head back to look up at him. "What?" she asked, tone aggressive and tinged with annoyance. Harry glanced around the crowded common room. They probably wouldn't be overheard talking here, but he didn't want to risk anyone becoming curious about what he could possibly have to converse with the 'weird new girl' about.

"Not here. Come," he said, voice low. Raven raised an eyebrow, her entire expression turning to one of droll scepticism. Harry wished, just once, she would be willing to make something easy for him.

"What's this about?" she asked. She looked as though she was going to go right back to her book, and Harry suspected she wouldn't have even looked up if anyone other than him had come up to speak with her, and knowing she was willing to listen to him if he made it worth her while bolstered him somewhat.

"You. California." He looked meaningfully at her and gestured toward the portrait hole. "Come," he said again.

Raven's eyes had narrowed and he swore he saw her hand glow black for a moment. Passing it off as a trick of the light, or of the frames of his glasses having gotten in the way of his vision, Harry gestured toward the portrait hole again and Raven stood stiffly, closing her book around the placeholder ribbon hanging from its spine.

"Are you and Miss Know-It-All Granger enjoying prying into my life?" Raven hissed as soon as the Fat Lady had swung shut behind them. As they made their way down the corridor, ignoring the portrait's admonishments about the quickly closing in curfew, Raven's motions were jerky. She looked as though she were about to bubble over with anger, and Harry could only admire her self-control, while hoping she at least held the rage until they reached the Room of Requirement so no teachers caught them out. He touched the Invisibility Cloak tucked in his bag to remind himself it was there - it wasn't yet curfew, but they were cutting it close and going in completely the wrong direction to be let off.

"She's just wary," Harry defended, careful to speak low, "She doesn't trust Professor Seraphlin, and the two of you are connected in her mind." Okay, so he was stretching the truth a bit. Hermione didn't trust Raven either, and only partially because she thought Raven and their new Professor were similar, but Harry wasn't trying to rile Raven up further.

"That makes me feel so much better about my secrets being aired," Raven replied, sarcasm painted heavily through her voice. Harry didn't reply until they were standing in the corridor in front of the Room of Requirement, and he let Raven stand, glaring at him until he'd made the room appear, trying to focus on the ballet learning trolls on the opposite wall instead of the piercing gaze of those purple eyes.

It wasn't an easy feat.

Once the door to the room had closed behind the pair, Raven turned to refocus her glare upon Harry. Hands raised in front of him as though to ward her off - though she wasn't doing anything other than standing and glaring at him - Harry backed toward the large, plush chairs the room had and allowed himself to drop into it. There wasn't another chair, so Harry supposed Raven didn't intend on sitting. In itself, that probably spoke volumes, but Harry still didn't know Raven well enough to know _what_ it was saying. Except, perhaps, she was angry, but he had figured _that_ out already.

"Really, Hermione's just looking out for me," Harry said. He hadn't intended on spending time defending his friend tonight, but then, he hadn't expected Raven to suddenly be so hostile toward him. He supposed he should have expected it - _he_ certainly would have been angry if someone had acted the same toward him - but he hadn't thought Raven was so similar to himself. Or maybe, he just hadn't fully thought of Hermione's research as an invasion.

"At the expense of my privacy," Raven retorted. "When I would have been willing to tell you all you wanted to know, assuming I saw it relevant to what's happening here. Really, I don't think my occupation back at home is relevant at all, but I'll have to thank Hermione or showing me how _easy_ I am to trace."

Harry put a hand to his head, suddenly feeling exasperated. Raven's tone didn't leave much room for arguing, but she sounded so higher-than-thou, that Harry wanted nothing more than to try and knock her down a couple of pegs. He knew, however, that he had little ground to stand on here, and the more he tried to argue, the more it would crumble beneath him.

"I don't think it _was_ easy," he finally said, settling on a topic he thought might appease her temper, at least somewhat. "Hermione's just a really determined researcher, and she's good at putting two and two together."

Raven favoured him with a flat look. "And you really think, if a girl our age with limited contact with the outside world can track my history in a week, that people outside can't do it even more quickly?" she shook her head and muttered something under her breath Harry couldn't catch, though from the tone she sounded more angry with herself than anything - or anyone - else.

"No one outside has the starting point you gave Hermione," Harry pointed out. Raven seemed to be calming down. That was good.

"Oh, no, of course not," Raven responded, and from the reinsertion of heavy sarcasm into her voice, Harry was sure he wouldn't like what she was going to say. "Because my _father_—" she spat the word "—being the tyrant from another dimension he is, has absolutely no idea of how to trace me, should he want to."

Harry froze, and Raven seemed to realise what she's said as well, because she suddenly paced to the other side of the room, which expanded to accommodate her escape. His mind was reeling as he stared at her. Sure, Raven had said she had connection to Trigon, and Harry knew she was more deeply into this than he could imagine, but he hadn't put her words together with everything that was going on, and he hadn't let Hermione know _just_ what he knew, to let her piece it together for him. Maybe that had been a mistake.

"None of this makes sense," he said finally. There had to be something else going on here - something he was missing.

Raven pivoted abruptly a furious look on her face as she opened her mouth, probably to call him a million kinds of idiot had he not cut her off.

"You're on our side. What Hermione found in those papers proves it, but how can you be tied so closely to our enemies too?"

"Are you just like your relations?" she countered, still sounding angry and frustrated, but with the emotions so muted he could hardly tell they were there. Something in her face looked strained too, as though she were putting grave effort into controlling herself.

"No, I guess I'm not," Harry responded, thinking of the Dursleys. He certainly wasn't anything like them, and he wouldn't appreciate anyone trying to equate him with them… but then, Uncle Vernon wasn't his father - and he shuddered at the thought of _that_.

"Why did you tell Hermione who you were, anyway?" Harry asked, fully willing to escape from the dangerous waters he'd found himself in with this conversation.

Raven shrugged. "Just to get her off my case," she said. "And to prove the faith the Order put in me isn't misplaced. We had a… very interesting conversation before she again decided she wanted nothing to do with me." A chair appeared next to his then, and Raven sat down in it, pulling her legs up and crossing them in a comfortable looking lotus position.

"I think you'll both have to make an effort there. We're on the same side, there's no reason for you not to get along," Harry suggested.

Raven responded with a noise sounding suspiciously like a snort of laughter. "We'll see," she replied, then abruptly sobered. He wasn't sure how he could tell, but she seemed more serious, somehow, when she continued speaking. "Listen. Do you know of anywhere in the forest someone could hide out? Safely?" she asked.

Harry shook his head, wondering where this had suddenly come from. "A cabin or something, you mean? I've been in there a few times, but never saw anything of the sort."

Raven was shaking her head. "Warded, so no one can find it," she replied.

Harry couldn't imagine any reason for her to be asking about warded hideouts in the forest - he thought someone would have to be mad to want to hide there, warded area or not - but he shook his head anyway.

One of Raven's legs bounced as though she were thinking. "Could you find out?" she asked.

Thinking of Hagrid, and knowing if _anyone_ was aware of a hideout in the forest, the half-giant would, Harry nodded.

"Good," Raven said, suddenly looking indifferent - Harry was definitely getting tired of her mood swings - "Now. Show me the defence you've been practicing."

* * *

The rest of October passed with little excitement. Harry continued to meet with Raven in the Room of Requirement for their lessons, never really seeming to get any better at what Raven was trying to teach him, but at least not getting any worse. Her lessons, too, were better than Occlumency in that he never had to worry about trying to sleep with his scar prickling after them. He wasn't sure if the lack of scar prickling was because he was better at this than Occlumency, or just because it was a different sort of magic, and didn't really care as long as there was nothing keeping him awake at night.

Harry wasn't sure though, why the quiet of October bothered him so much though. He didn't _think _it had to do with his inability to speak to Hagrid about potential hiding places in the Forbidden Forest (though the look Raven gave him whenever he shook his head in response to her asking could have made the bothersome feeling merely guilt) but he couldn't think of anything else it could have been.

Then Halloween hit, and he realised _exactly_ what had been bothering him for the month leading up to it.

He hadn't had any visions.

* * *

_Author's Corner_

A shorter chapter than most, but I got out exactly what I had wanted to in it, so you'll get Halloween in the next chapter. It ought to be a doozy.

It may also be delayed, because the new Anita Blake book came out today, and reading it is going to take complete priority over everything else the next couple of days. (Except going to work. I still have to do that, unfortunately.)

* * *

Completed - June 2/2009


	13. A Halloween Storm

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Titans, nor do I own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the two. Teen Titans is © of DC Comics, Harry Potter is © of J.K. Rowling, and Warner Brothers holds © over both of them.

**Author's Warning:** This is a crossover fic. :Watches people close the window.: Ahem. Those of you who do not like crossovers may leave now. The rest of you, I invite to continue on…

**Summary:** Trigon has returned, and Voldemort has joined him as a minion. Drawn by strange dreams, Raven must involve herself in the problems of others, including one Harry Potter, who is once again being plagued by strange nightmares. This year at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends are going to be pitted against their most difficult task yet. Destroying a force that even the Dark Lord himself fears won't be easy…

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Demon's Wrath, or; Year Seven and Negative One-Fourth**

_Chapter 13 - A Halloween Storm_

Halloween came upon Hogwarts quickly enough, the holiday one the students eagerly awaited, not only for the feast it brought, but also for the halfway-to-Christmas-break milestone it indicated. That Halloween, however, wasn't everything the students of Hogwarts had been waiting for.

Harry surprised himself by finishing his homework in enough time that evening to be early for the feast, so nearly fifteen minutes before the doors to the Great Hall were opened, he found himself idling in the Entrance Hall, waiting to be let in. He was the only one there, though Hermione had been about to leave the common room when he had, and should really have joined him by now.

He assumed she'd become sidetracked by something or other and decided simply to come down in a few minutes so as to be on time for the feast instead of early, and Harry didn't think it was Hermione's absence making him feel wary. For the middle of the day, the castle was too quiet. Normally the portraits could be heard whispering to each other, suits of armour creaked as they moved around, students roamed the hallways laughing, and even the ghosts appeared to make a little noise. Right now though, Harry couldn't hear any of that. It was as though the castle and all of its inhabitants were under a silencing spell, and it unnerved Harry.

It bothered him so much in act, that he found himself stepping with his feet slapping heavily against the stones below them. He felt ridiculous, but at least his trainers made some noise at each contact with the floor. It made him feel just a bit better about the state of the castle.

"What are you _doing_, Potter?" Draco Malfoy's voice sneered suddenly from the entrance to the corridor. As he turned to face the group of Slytherins gathered in the doorway, Harry caught himself thinking that maybe, just maybe, the eerie quiet had been better. However, since he spied more students standing beyond the Slytherins, also headed down to the feast, he could only wonder why he'd been the _only_ person to come down early. The thought stayed with him as he ate, until finally Ron punched him in the arm and his attention fully refocused upon his friends and the world around him when Hermione began scolding the redhead for hitting him.

"But he was way out on Jupiter somewhere. You okay, mate?" Ron asked once he noticed Harry's attention on him. Harry nodded slowly. He wasn't sure what kept pulling him out of the present, but he didn't think it could be a good thing. Not at all.

How to figure out what it was though? Maybe Raven could help him. She would at least be able to tell him if this was some psychic thing bothering him - that would be preferable to discovering he was going mental. Anything, he was sure, would be preferable to finding out he was mental.

"I'm fine, but I think something weird's going on," Harry replied. Ron and Hermione shared glances and Hermione pushed her plate away as though she'd lost her appetite, her mouth twisting to make her look faintly ill.

Ron, on the other hand, kept shovelling food into his mouth. "Always something weird going on," he said once he'd swallowed enough to speak. "'Long as nothing happens today, we're good."

Harry opened his mouth to voice his whole hearted agreement, then snapped it closed again and buckled forward, suddenly unable to feel anything, or think of anything, beyond the pain in his head as his scar began to burn. He'd known there was something weird going on - he should have been able to pinpoint the origin of it. Weird things only happened around him when Voldemort was involved.

"Harry? Hey mate, can you hear me? Harry?" Ron's voice came to him slowly as the pain ebbed and he was able to remove his hands from his forehead to see Ron and a few of the other Gryffindors sitting around them looking at him in concern.

"Where is she going?" Hermione, whose attention, Harry discovered, was elsewhere, hissed. He followed her gaze to see an unmistakable purple haired person leave the Great Hall moving, Harry though, rather quickly - particularly if Raven hadn't wanted to be noticed.

"She took one look at you and ran off. What's going on, Harry?" Hermione asked. Harry shook his head. He honestly had no idea where Raven was going, nor did hw know what was happening and _that_ irritated him as much as it irritated Hermione. Harry, however, wasn't about ready to curse Raven because of her involvement, and he suspected Hermione was.

"The teachers don't look worried," Ron observed, eyes scanning the Head table. "But hey, Seraphlin's missing. Was she there earlier?"

Hermione turned her attention to the professors as well, a frown marring her face. "I don't know…" she murmured.

Then the castle shook, the booming sound of an explosion echoing through the hall, and there was chaos as the younger students - and some in the upper years - began to panic.

* * *

For close to a week, Raven had been expecting something out of the ordinary to happen. She didn't have a _clue _what that thing was going to be, but she'd been quite, _quite_ certain it would be neither anything good, nor anything expected. The nervous energy she'd felt dancing through the school's corridors in the past week prepared Raven for something awful to happen, but not knowing anything about what was to happen, save for this gut feeling brought on by her powers, there was nothing she could do to prepare.

However, when the Halloween feast arrived and she saw Harry bent over in pain, she knew it was beginning. Though still unsure of what 'it' was, Raven fled the Great Hall, pace barely slower than a run, the longing to levitate and speed her pace greater than it had been since she arrived at the school. It was completely out of the question, of course, and she knew that, but all the same, standing on the ground was _not_ the way Raven liked meeting an enemy. That she needed to concentrate to _keep_ her feet on the ground and not let habit take over, was more of a problem. She wouldn't be at her best with her attention divided, but what else could she do?

Initially, Raven hoped she was overreacting by leaving the hall, and half thought the worst that would happen tonight would be her missing dinner. When she heard - and, for that matter, felt - the explosion though, she could no longer pretend, or hope otherwise. Something was happening - something bad - and Raven just hoped she could get to the site of it to assess the damage done before anyone showed up and forced her back into her role as a student.

How she would manage that without using her powers, Raven wasn't sure. There would be a panic in the Great Hall now, and she knew it was only a matter of minutes before students started streaming through the halls, and whether they were being directed by teachers or not, Raven knew she couldn't be caught flying. There would be far too much explaining involved if she was, and her cover would be blown entirely. She needed to figure out another way of finding where the attack had occurred. If she'd known the school better, this would be easy. Since she didn't, she decided to ask someone who did.

The school itself was imbued with so much magic, even if it couldn't speak to her outright, Raven trusted it to guide her where she needed to go. She just had to make sure, first, that _it_ trusted _her_. It wouldn't help at all or the school to reject her, or to send her somewhere she would be unable to escape. True, it had allowed her to slip through its wards when she'd been exploring before, but now there'd been an attack and Raven was a bit more wary.

Still, hesitating and procrastinating weren't going to get her anywhere. Bracing herself for being thrown across the corridor should the wards decide to reject her outright, and glancing around to make sure no one snuck up behind her, Raven placed both palms flat against the wall. Hoping no one came around the corner _now_, Raven let energy flow to her hands, watching as the freed power surrounded them in a black halo, feeling the rock beneath her touch as the power it held came alive to her senses.

"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos…" she breathed, sending a gentle pulse of power into the wall with her request for help. She felt a strange sensation then, as though the wards were bending to accept her magic. Then, before she knew what was happening, Raven felt the castle take control over the power she'd extended to it.

With barely time to make a soft 'umph!' of surprise, she found the magic of the castle pulling her forward, into the walls as though neither she not they were solid. The sensation continued for a long moment until the castle finally released its hold on her, leaving her standing in the middle of the ruined Charms wing, floors from where she had started.

"Well, _that_ was unexpected," she muttered to herself, shaking her head. "And a bit eerie…." She was fairly certain the castle wouldn't have been able to drag anyone else through its walls. It had grabbed hold of her powers, harnessed them and manipulated them itself, as though they weren't a part of her. She was _never_ going to give it the chance to do that again, no matter _what_ the emergency was. It had been far too strange of a sensation, and was too close to losing control for her liking.

"Now… What happened here?" she wondered aloud, eyes flickering back and forth as she took in the scene. It was so quiet here that she thought she could _hear_ the humming of magical residue in the air. Something had caused the explosion, but she couldn't figure out what it had been. There was nothing whole enough left n the scene to tell her what had triggered the attack, and it would take her forever to go from student to student, hoping to get flashed of what had happened here from them. Assuming, of course, it was a student who had orchestrated this. She thought it likely, but had nothing to back up that assumption.

Suddenly, Raven heard voice speaking loudly, anxiously, and coming closer. It was strange - the sounds had come to her, not gradually as they should have, but all at once, as though she'd removed ear plugs in the middle of a noisy room. She stood stock still for a long moment, trying to figure out who the voices belonged to so she could decide whether to stay or make herself scarce. When she identified them as belonging to Dracona and Headmistress McGonagall, she remained where she was.

Waiting for the two to come around the corner, and hoping there was no one else with them, Raven turned her attention to the area around her, lifting rocks and large bits of rubble with her powers and moving them off to the sides of the corridor. She left her wand in her pocket - this was far easier without the tool to get in her way - relishing in the freedom she felt, being able to just allow her power to flow through her hands instead of having to narrow it down and push it through a stick of wood. The power went willingly enough, but Raven hating having to remember to _use _the thing.

The third rock she moved stopped her thoughts where they were. The rock had hid the claw marks in the floor beneath it, and Raven rushed toward them, tossing the rock carelessly to one side and releasing it from the grip of her power. Something had been here. Those marks couldn't have been caused by a spell - there were _gauges_ in the floor.

"If Heath can't find anything outside, we can assume Trigon's involvement, but really, Minerva, this seems too small for a demon of that calibre, so - Raven!"

Raven turned to look at the two women as they came around the corner, nodding in greeting and ignoring the shocked way Dracona had said her name, her attention still on the gashes in the stone near her feet. The only damage, other than this, had been done to the walls. The rest of the floor, and the ceiling above her head, were clear, as though the walls had been blasted, or bashed, and been the only target of a focused attack… But what could have done it?

"I'm not entirely sure I agree with your assessment, Dracona," Raven said at length, furiously thinking about what she as going to say, even as she said it. "True, no one was hurt, but it this _was_ Trigon, then this destruction and sudden disappearing act could merely be a show of the ease at which he can slip through the castle's wards."

"Is that likely?" the Headmistress asked, a bit of a bark to her voice that Raven bristled at, then dismissed as nerves.

Dracona opened her mouth, looking as though she was going to answer affirmatively, but Raven quickly shook her head. "I don't think he can get in without physically walking across the boundaries. You don't have to worry about that yet, Headmistress. The castle, I think, will do everything it can to keep Trigon out."

McGonagall looked a bit sceptical, but Raven could _feel_ the wards about her humming agreement - and she felt more than a little estranged by how willing the castle was to communicate with her, since she hadn't seen it being this active around anyone else.

She thought about that for a long moment, contemplating the personality the school seemed to have, and was abruptly interrupted by a shriek from outside, coming in through one of the smashed windows nearby.

"The lawns!" McGonagall exclaimed, looking at Dracona. The woman nodded once and then the hallway - and Raven - was bathed in violet power. A moment later, Raven blinked and scowled at Dracona, though the demoness, running forward to join the battle that had begun, didn't notice Raven's anger.

* * *

The explosions had come from the direction of the Charms wing, Harry thought, though he couldn't quite be sure, since there wasn't much up there with volatile properties. He knew they hadn't happened randomly - the burning in his scar told him that - he just wished a vision had accompanied the pain to tell him what Voldemort was doing.

"Students need to proceed to their dormitories! Look to your Prefects and the Head Boy and Girl for guidance! _No one_ strays from their house groups!" McGonagall was calling over the hectic crowd. Then she and a couple of the other teachers left, leaving only a few of her colleagues to deal with the frantic students.

"Cover for me?" Harry asked Hermione and Ron under his breath. Each gave him an exasperated look.

"They'll notice you're gone, Harry," Hermione said lowly, shuffling a few first years into a single line as she spoke. Harry gave her a level look.

"I need to find out where Raven went. Just cover for me. If anyone asks, I've gone to use the loo." And before either of them could raise another word of protest, he slipped away and out into the entrance hall.

The door out of the castle and onto the grounds was ajar. Strange, since the school was in a state of panic, and everything should have been locked up tight until the teachers had regained control. If the doors were open, then perhaps there was nothing happening in the Charms wing. Or, whatever had happened up there had spilled out onto the grounds… or had simply been a diversion for something else.

Mind made up, Harry slipped out of the open doors and into the dusk-darkened grounds beyond, senses tuned and body tight with anticipation of a fight. Near the lake he could see the flashing of spells, too many of the jets of light red and bright green for the attackers to be anyone but Death Eaters. There were two shapes there also, too strange to be human, but with the dim light that was _all_ Harry could tell about them.

As he moved closer, there was a violent flash of purple light and three more figures joined those opposite the side with the creatures. Then a flash of light came toward _him_, and Harry was forced to duck out of the way, his attention narrowing down from the entire fight to merely the one duelling him.

* * *

Raven was careful to use her wand in the fight, but remaining 'undercover' (as it were) was starting to wear on her. She wasn't fighting anywhere near her best today, and she couldn't determine if that was due to the wand holding her back, or because of lack of practice since she'd come to Britain. Whichever it was, her focus was beginning to slip - the spell trails of the jinxes she was casting had taken on a darker tone as her power bled through the wand. Still, Raven did her best to battle on these terms, because she was still desperately hoping no one on Voldemort's side knew who she was yet.

"Protego!" she exclaimed, fending off a jet of orange light as it rushed toward her. A moment later, she dove out of the way when it was followed by a brilliant shot of green. The other side was aiming to kill - this had to end soon.

When one of the Death Eaters became distracted and broke away from the main fight, Raven didn't look around to see what had caused him to even up the numbers. Instead, she turned to deal with the two creatures that had advanced with the Death Eaters - creatures Raven was quite certain Trigon had donated to tonight's attack.

Raven had heard students talking about the attack on the Hogwarts' Express the day they had come to school, back at the beginning of September. She had heard many descriptions of the creatures that had attacked the train, and if the descriptions were accurate, then she was fairly certain she was looking at two of the same creatures. If she was, then she had a problem.

She didn't know how to fight them with this new magic.

There was most certainly a spell to get under the armour the creatures had, but Raven couldn't think of where she might have read of it. _Here_ was a place where six previous years of magical education at Hogwarts would have helped her. She was sure a spell of some sort would have been mentioned in passing, even if it wasn't covered in the course material… But Raven just couldn't think of one.

She looked around carefully, trying to gauge if anyone's attention was on her, or if anyone would be able to see her from the castle. She wasn't going to stand around and shoot spells at these things if they weren't going to do anything. She had been asked to Hogwarts to deal with something in particular, and she _knew_ she would only be able to deal with Trigon using her own strain of power.

"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos!" she said, brandishing her wand before her and letting the black power pour through it to strike at the lizard-like creatures before her. The power surrounded one of them, causing it to stumble backward, lengthy tail tripping up its fellow. She pointed the wand again, inwardly cursing the need to use it, letting the power pour forth as the second creature regained its balance and charged toward her.

"Raven! The Conjunctivitis curse! Aim for the eyes!" she heard a voice shout. She knew the voice, but didn't have a chance to place it, watching instead as a spell shot from behind her, hitting one of the creatures in the eye and causing it to freeze in place, unable to see.

With a slash of her wand, Raven repeated the incantation she'd heard, freezing the other creature in place when it became confused with the loss of its sight, and then raised her hands above her.

"Back where you belong! Azarath, Metrion, _Zinthos!_" she shouted, and though her wand was still in her hand it was all but forgotten as black halos surrounded both of her hands with the invocation. Carefully, she surrounded the blind creatures with power and then pushed _down._

It wasn't a place she was sending them to. Not really. Instead, she was focused more on returning them to the hell dimension they'd come from. She knew she shouldn't be doing it - Trigon would know instantly how the creatures had been returned, but she couldn't leave them here. It was time to let the other side know who they were dealing with anyway.

Raven focused inwardly for a long moment, even after she was sure the creatures had been forced out of the physical plane, still watching them with her minds eye as they descended away from here. She had a moment to wonder why the school's wards hadn't stopped her from doing what she'd done, before she was almost thrown off of her feet by the sudden surge of them around her, pushing her power back into her and out of where it had been. They had bowed apart to let her banish the creatures. She was going to have to sit down and figure out just how aware the castle _really_ was.

"Professor Terlig!"

Raven had forgotten there was still a fight going on around her, but the name, shrieked by a voice from somewhere behind her, brought her instantly back to where she was. Without thinking, Raven turned to face where she had last seen the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, and, palms outward, launched an arc of power out to form a shield around him against the jet of green light that was quickly closing in.

Time seemed to stop for a long moment as Professor Terlig turned to see the spell coming at him from behind, the black barrier between him and it…

And then the curse ripped directly through the shield Raven had erected, the curse enveloping the man and throwing him to the grass beneath their feet.

"Heath!" shouted Professor McGonagall. There was a flurry of motion around them, and Raven was sure the Death Eaters were fleeing, the destruction they'd come to cause complete. However, the lavender haired witch couldn't do anything but stare down at her hands as evidence of her power receded from them and back into her.

_Nothing_ had ever ripped through her energy shields like that. _Nothing_. How could her powers have failed her?

"Raven?"

Raven was finally able to identify the voice as Harry's, and she turned to look at him, still feeling vaguely as though she might be going into shock. Trying to shake the sensation off, she nodded once to indicate to Harry that she was listening.

"That was… some pretty awesome magic," he commented. There was strain in his voice that made Raven frown, but she wouldn't comment on it. In fact, she wasn't entirely sure she _could _speak, so instead of replying, she raised one shoulder in a shrug…

And then escaped back into the castle when Headmistress McGonagall came over to them to scold Harry for being out of the safety of the castle.

* * *

_Author's Corner_

Managed to fit quite a few things in here that needed to be put in. It would be way too easy and no fun at all if Raven could block the Killing curse. More on the attack in the next chapter. We're finally getting somewhere with the main plot!

* * *

_Completed - June 10/2009_


	14. Diabolic Dealings

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Titans, nor do I own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the two. Teen Titans is © of DC Comics, Harry Potter is © of J.K. Rowling, and Warner Brothers holds © over both of them.

**Author's Warning:** This is a crossover fic. :Watches people close the window.: Ahem. Those of you who do not like crossovers may leave now. The rest of you, I invite to continue on…

**Summary:** Trigon has returned, and Voldemort has joined him as a minion. Drawn by strange dreams, Raven must involve herself in the problems of others, including one Harry Potter, who is once again being plagued by strange nightmares. This year at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends are going to be pitted against their most difficult task yet. Destroying a force that even the Dark Lord himself fears won't be easy…

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Demon's Wrath, or; Year Seven and Negative One-Fourth**

_Chapter 14 - Diabolic Dealings_

No matter how many times she replayed the fight in her head over the next week, Raven couldn't find a definite way she could have helped avoid Professor Terlig's death. She'd thought a lot about it - in fact, Raven was fairly certain she thought about it enough for her focus to be bordering on obsession - but no matter how she ran the scenario through her head, she couldn't find a solution.

It didn't matter, of course. She couldn't go back and change things, and there were far more important things Raven needed to concern herself with, but all the same… No one had died on her watch before. There _had_ to have been some way she could have stopped it.

Raven knew she ought to focus her attention on helping McGonagall and Dracona to figure out how the Halloween attack had happened. Instead, she had thrown herself into her studies, focused on keeping calm so that her power didn't topple everything over. She didn't think she was actually as close to the edge as she felt, but a pit of uneasiness had developed in her stomach and refused to leave.

It was that feeling of uneasiness that found her in this position, kneeling in front of the trunk at the end of her bed, fishing through piles of folding clothing until she reached the bottom. She pulled out her dark blue cloak, taking the raven embossed clasp from its place at the neck and clenching it in her hand. She knew it was unrealistic to expect to save _everyone_, but it didn't stop her from being shaken.

Not only did she feel estranged by the failure of her powers, but she kept having to entertain the thought that it could have been _her_. _She_ could have just as easily ended up dead that night, her own defences broken by the same spell. She'd merely gotten lucky - she knew that - and just as well as she knew that, she knew she couldn't count on it happening again.

When she had left for Hogwarts, Raven hadn't expected it to be _much_ different from the trials she'd faced with the team back at home. As she was quickly discovering, though, there was a massive difference in the villains. Yes, with the Titans she had saved the world a few times, but mostly they stopped petty criminals. The Titans had never faced off against anyone who tried to kill everything in sight.

Raven hadn't been prepared for that. Not at all. Now, though, now she thought she would be prepared for next time. This Voldemort wasn't some petty criminal. He wasn't even a villain of the same, higher level as Slade. He was some sort of magic-wielding terrorist who had been granted additional power by a demon who wanted to rid the earth - the universe - of all mortals.

It was overwhelming that a group of grown witches and wizards who had been fighting against this self-styled Dark Lord for three decades had chosen _her_ to put a portion of their faith in. Overwhelming enough that she'd begun having dreams about going home, which turned into nightmares of entrapment. Maybe she _would_ visit over the Christmas break after all.

Raven forced her fingers into a looser grip around the brooch, staring down at the red jewelled surface and sighing. Sitting around like this wasn't getting her anywhere. She was just wasting time, when she could be doing any number of other, more important things. Wishing the other Titans were here wasn't going to bring them any closer. Her friends were half a world away, and she'd been trusted to get this done on her own - she_ knew_ she could get this done on her own. It wouldn't only be Wizarding Britain she'd fail if she didn't manage. It would be the rest of the world.

Raven jumped when the brooch in her hands started blinking. She still didn't understand how her T-Communicator was able to work here, and the connection her cloak clasp had to the Titan's alert system should have been offline too, scrambled by all of the magic in the air at the school. She was grateful for whatever in the construction allowed the devices to work though. She had very little doubt that the team would have already tried to bust down the doors of the school if they hadn't heard from her at all.

However, this was the first time she'd happened to look at the brooch and seen it flash. It was the first evidence she had of the team actually fending off villains while she was away. In theory, she'd known there was no way Jump City could have been quiet all this time - especially if the criminals had found out the Titans were one member short. Theory was different than actually having proof in her hand though.

Sighing, and shaking her head inwardly, calling herself all sorts of idiot, Raven fished her communicator out of her book bag. She glanced around once to make sure none of her roommates were around, and then flipped it open.

"Everything okay over there?" she asked once the connection had been established. The team was gathered in front of the monitor and Robin, who had clearly been in the middle of saying something, turned to face the screen, surprise on his face.

"Everything's fine. It's just Mad Mod," he said, then frowned. "Are _you_ okay?" he asked.

Raven hesitated. She'd called the team for her weekly check-in last night, but had avoided mentioning anything about the attack on Halloween night. She didn't quite know why she'd decided it a good idea to not say anything, but now that she'd made the decision, she certainly wasn't going to dump her problems on them. Particularly not when they had places to be.

"I'm fine. I was just looking through things and noticed my clasp flashing, so I thought I'd make it wasn't anything too serious," she said. She was only half lying, after all.

Robin, however, didn't look convinced. "Raven…" he began.

She waved a hand to cut him off. "Mod's getting away. Let me worry about what's going on here. I told you. I'll call you if I need help." With that said, she snapped the device closed. She shouldn't have called if she wasn't going to say anything, but she really just needed to unload _everything_.

"Who were you talking to?" a crisp voice snapped then, as Raven moved to tuck both T-Communicator and cloak clasp back into her trunk. She froze. The _last_ person she needed to be accosted by now was Hermione Granger.

"I don't really think it's any of your business," Raven replied, teeth clamped tightly together so the sound came out grated. She folded the blue cloak at the bottom of the trunk back around the precious Titan paraphernalia, brushing her fingers briefly against the frame of her meditation mirror, also tucked safely away there, as she did. Maybe a visit to her emotions would help clear up this mess she felt swamped by.

She stood and turned to find Hermione standing in the doorway, arms by her sides, her body taut and her fists clenched as though she expected a fight. Since Raven didn't intend on fighting her, even to get out of the room, the lavender haired Titan wasn't entirely sure what this could be about.

"What are you hiding?" Hermione demanded. Raven stared at her for a long moment, then forced her face into a bored expression. This was getting tiring. Very tiring.

"_Nothing_," she stressed. "You know _everything_ of importance. You know my background. You know my relation to current events. You know how I came to be here, and why I'm a student. You've _made sure_ you knew everything about me, so _why_ do you still think I'm hiding things from you?" she asked, irritated.

"Because you have some sort of power no one else here does, except Professor Seraphlin," Hermione replied. Raven barely refrained from groaning. She was fairly certain she knew where Hermione was headed with this, and she didn't want to go through trying to explain to the other girl _why_ she did good things with her powers. _That_ was something about her Hermione had no business knowing more about.

"Yes. I do," Raven cut across before Hermione could get her wind and start ranting. "I have the power needed to stop Trigon. That is why I'm here. It's my motives that are important, not the origin of my power. When you're finally prepared to comprehend that, we can talk."

Hermione glared at her. "What are your _motives_ then?" she demanded. "How do we know it wasn't _you_ who orchestrated the attack on Halloween? You knew how to get _rid_ of the creatures that were here, so you could have just as easily _summoned _them and then banished them to look like you were on our side.

"Just like over the summer, when you caused Harry to fall into that coma and then you pushed him back out, but only after a few days. Harry may thank you for that, but since it was your fault in the first—" Raven held out one hand, effectively cutting off Hermione's tirade with a band of power that she slapped across the other girl's mouth.

"I am going to say this once," she stated. "I don't know where Harry got his powers from, but he has some level of psychic ability, more than anyone else in this school. We are working on his control, and have been since the school year started. He became trapped in the mindscape because of an inability to control the raw power his interaction with me unlocked. I had _nothing_ to do with him becoming trapped there, and you will _never_ accuse me of orchestrating schemes to make myself look better again.

"I don't care if you don't trust me, but flinging accusations at me simply because you've come to some incorrect, uninformed conclusion is not something I'm going to accept. I have a mission to complete here, and I'm going to fulfil it and return home. You don't have to appreciate it. You don't have to like me. You don't even have to speak with me, but don't stand in my way with your juvenile, jealousy fuelled attempts to drive me away from my mission.

"Since you know _exactly_ what that mission is, I expect this will be our _last_ encounter of this nature," Raven snarled, releasing the power she was using for Hermione's gag and then disappearing in her own swirl of energy, too frustrated to walk to her destination.

The little alcove she'd found in the Astronomy Tower was empty as she'd expected it to be and as soon as Raven arrived there she levitated to her usual lotus position and began chanting. She hadn't expected to get along with most of the students here. She hadn't expected even to get along with ten percent of them, and she certainly wasn't here to make friends, but Hermione's hostility toward her was frustrating.

So frustrating, in fact, that instead of calming herself to meditate, Raven found herself stewing. The more she tried to force her irritation away, the stronger it came at her, until finally the power lashed out, a tendril of black flaring from her chakra and a wind blowing her school cloak out behind her. The power swirled around then, and with a crash, Raven found herself lying on her back on the floor as she lost even the control needed to levitate.

This wasn't working.

She needed to be calm. She needed to relax. She needed to forget what was happening outside of this room.

"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos…" she murmured, floating back into position as she slowly removed all importance from the fight she'd had with Hermione. She could deal with it later.

* * *

"Hogsmeade next weekend," Harry commented from in front of the notice board in the common room. He turned to look at Hermione, who had been awfully quiet for the past hour or so. Not that Hermione wasn't always quiet, but she was also acting strange, somehow. Harry wasn't entirely sure what it was, but he knew _something _was bothering her.

"What is it, 'Mione?" he asked, walking over to the couch and dropping down beside her. Her Charms text was spread out on her lap, and she glanced briefly up from her reading to look at him, then went back to staring at the words on the page in front of her.

"It's Raven…" she began. Harry groaned.

"What now?" he asked. He was ready for anything, really. Hermione kept finding out strange things about Raven, and no matter how much she seemed to be trying to help him, he was still quite ready to accept just about anything Hermione told him. After all, she'd found out things about Raven which Harry would have been more than willing to dismiss as nothing, and they'd ended up being true, so he readily believed she was hiding more.

"We… had an argument," Hermione replied at length. Harry wasn't surprised. All the two seemed to do was argue - when they weren't ignoring one another. "And I said some things I probably should have kept to myself. She… reacted really badly to them."

Harry immediately thought of the strange powers Raven had used during the Halloween fight - something he otherwise tried not to think about, because he didn't want to think about how close Voldemort could be. He wasn't ready to take on Voldemort. Not yet. Raven had controlled the dark energy she'd been throwing around well, but even Harry had been able to tell it was some sort of powerful, raw magic that was probably stronger than anything most witches and wizards learned in their lives.

"Did she attack you?" Harry asked, fearing the worst. He'd seen what Raven could do, and really, did he know enough about her to be sure she wouldn't attack someone? She clearly didn't like Hermione, after all.

"No. No, it wasn't anything like that," Hermione said, realising where Harry's mind had taken him. "But I think I've finally realised that she's actually here to help. I don't know what her motives are, or why _she_ was chosen—" here, Harry forced himself to stay silent. As far as he knew, Hermione didn't know Trigon was Raven's father, and he wasn't going to be the one to tell her "—and I'm not sure if we can trust her, but… I think she's trying to help."

Harry raised one eyebrow at her. "Why are you telling me this?" he asked.

Hermione gave him an irritated look. "I'm trying to work it all out. I still don't think it all adds up, but… She mentioned she was teaching you something, and if she's helping you, then I guess I shouldn't be making things more difficult for you."

"You're not," Harry replied, and stretched his legs out so that the soles of his feet were closer to the fire. He threw his arms across the back of the couch, giving his whole body a stretch. "Raven's been pretty fair with not taking her disagreement with you out on me, except when I got involved in it." He brought his arms back to rest them across his legs. "But if you want to apologise, then you should apologise to her."

Hermione closed her book. "I don't think I have anything to apologise for," she said, voice a bit stiff. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Invasion of privacy?" he suggested.

Hermione gave an uneasy shrug. "I'm just… going to leave her alone," she replied. The uneasiness in her body language translated through in her voice and Harry was left wondering just what had happened in this conversation she'd had with Raven. "I think that's what she wants, anyway."

"Yeah, Raven seems to like space," Harry replied. Then, the conversation suddenly reminding him of it, he said, "Come down with me to visit Hagrid tomorrow? There's something I need to ask him." When Hermione looked at him curiously, he explained what Raven had mentioned about the wards in the Forbidden Forest.

After he explained, she sat quiet for a long moment, looking contemplative. "How did _she_ find it?" she asked finally. Harry shook his head.

"I don't know. She didn't tell me, just asked what I thought."

Hermione continued to look contemplative, a bit of her expression showing confusion as well. "I just promised to give her space, but… I really _do_ want to know what's going on here," she said.

"I'm not sure Raven would be able to tell you even if you asked," Harry responded. He wasn't. While Raven seemed to know more of what was going on than anyone else, Harry also had the feeling she didn't know as much as she pretended to. Sure, he knew she had more background information, but as far as he knew, the visions he'd shared with her were the only ones she had. If those visions were the only insight she had into what Trigon was planning with Voldemort, then Raven was probably just as in the dark as he was. It wasn't comforting, really, not when Raven was supposed to be this… _hero_ who saved them all, but it wasn't _her_ fault.

"Demons…" Hermione muttered. "How do you fight off demons?"

Harry shook his head. He had no idea.

* * *

"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos… Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos… Azarath— _ungh_!"

The calm, dark place in Raven's mind she went to when she meditated flickered out abruptly and Raven found herself lying on stone, flat on her back for the second time that day. Though she could feel the stone of the Hogwart's floor beneath her, when she opened her eyes, it wasn't one of the vaulted ceilings of the castle she was staring at.

Instead, she stared at the stalactite-strewn ceiling of a cavern. She lay flat on her back on an island of stone, surrounded by jets of smokes and climbing walls of flame. She knew this place, and as well as she knew this place, se new her presence here could mean nothing but trouble. For who, she wasn't sure, but it certainly wasn't going to be the creature who had brought her here.

She glowered at the red eyes hovering just beyond the first wall of flame. "Whatever you're selling, I'm not buying," she spat as she got to her feet, arms in a fighter's stance out to either side of her body, hands aglow with power.

A deep chuckle filled the cavern. "_How are you enjoying the witch school, daughter?_" Trigon's voice asked. Raven knew this cave and the eyes floating within it were little more than a construct of the demon's subconscious - the only part of him able to reach here from his dimension - but all the same she looked around quickly, then focused back upon the eyes when he started laughing again.

"What do you want?" Raven demanded, not willing to bring any more attention than necessary to her skittishness. He had noticed - it was inevitable, but she didn't dwell on it. "You lost your chance to get into this world. Why even contact me?"

"_Do you truly believe there was only one way for me to get into your world?_" the demon asked, sounding amused. Since Raven was quite certain the only way for Trigon to actually bring himself into this world had been by using her as his portal, and since he'd used up his chance, she ignored the amusement. She was sure it was an act. If he could have gotten through without a vessel - fully through, as he was and not just the half form that sent her visions - there wouldn't have been any reason for Raven's birth. She was well aware of that.

All the same, she knew she ought to be wary, because Trigon proved last time he could mess with her even with the distance, and if he was contacting her now, she was sure _that _hadn't changed. She didn't need him messing with her right now. She had enough to be concerned about without him.

"I _know_ there was only one way for you to get here, and we stopped that," Raven responded.

"_If I had been stopped, would I be trying again?" _Trigon asked. Raven scowled.

"Why not?" she spat. "You found a minion. Better, you found a minion with minions, and a well established position based entirely on fear. What did you promise him to get him to bow to you?"

"_What else? Power, my daughter. He will have power beyond his wildest imaginings, simply for serving me, and I will help him achieve his own ends."_

Raven scoffed, eyes darting to one side when fire exploded upward in a scalding jet. She refocused on the eyes above her again, certain that, wherever he was, Trigon was smiling. "You'll destroy him along with everyone else if you get what you want," she stated blandly.

"_Serve me, and I will spare you and your friends."_ An image of the Titans back home, quickly followed by one of Harry, flashed before her and Raven clenched her hands into fists.

"Liar!" she shouted, power flaring from her fists at the sudden spike in her emotions, breaking the image and leaving her staring up at the Hogwarts ceiling, the echoes from her shout still bouncing around the small room. Shakily, Raven clamoured to her feet and wiped her hands down her back, brushing off the dust her cloak had picked up.

She knew he couldn't reach her here, but he had minions who could. If he really wanted her on his side, he knew her weaknesses. If he threatened her friends, she would have little choice but to do what he wanted - because she knew he would hurt them, and though she knew they would all be destroyed in the end, if there was even the slightest chance she could save them, Raven was willing to take it.

On her way back to Gryffindor tower, Raven cursed Voldemort for being fool enough to make a deal with a devil.

* * *

"As I have told you _multiple times_, Minerva, I knew _nothing_ of the attack at Halloween. As far as I have been able to tell, the Dark Lord _did not _sanction it. However, as he does not wish to admit someone acted without his instruction - and with the backup of that _creature_ he is answering to - I am having a hard time discovering just _who_ was behind the attack.

"I do not care if you don't believe me. I have told you what I know."

Minerva McGonagall frowned, glaring at the man in front of her though knowing it was an utterly ineffective motion. He was supposed to be their spy. He was supposed to know _everything _that was going on in Voldemort's circle, yet he hadn't known of something directly affecting Hogwarts.

Perhaps it wasn't his fault, she thought as she showed herself to the door of the tiny little cabin he was staying in. Perhaps he was telling the truth, and Voldemort really _hadn't_ known of last week's attack. If it was true, though, then Minerva, as Headmistress of Hogwarts, had even more on her plate. If the spy was telling the truth, and not feeding her false information on his Master's orders, then Minerva needed to find out who else Trigon could be speaking to, preferably, soon.

Resolved to speak to Raven at the next available opportunity, Minerva closed the door of the cabin firmly behind her, resetting those wards she had disturbed, and left the warded glen, and then the forest, behind.

* * *

_Author's Corner_

There's going to be a bit of Draco in the next chapter. I'm trying out a subplot with him which I _hope_ will work. If not, he'll just be an out of character mess until I can resolve the massive plot hole I'll have constructed.

We'll see how it goes.

* * *

Completed - June 14/2009


	15. Meetings

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Titans, nor do I own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the two. Teen Titans is © of DC Comics, Harry Potter is © of J.K. Rowling, and Warner Brothers holds © over both of them.

**Author's Warning:** This is a crossover fic. :Watches people close the window.: Ahem. Those of you who do not like crossovers may leave now. The rest of you, I invite to continue on…

**Summary:** Trigon has returned, and Voldemort has joined him as a minion. Drawn by strange dreams, Raven must involve herself in the problems of others, including one Harry Potter, who is once again being plagued by strange nightmares. This year at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends are going to be pitted against their most difficult task yet. Destroying a force that even the Dark Lord himself fears won't be easy…

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Demon's Wrath, or; Year Seven and Negative One-Fourth**

_Chapter 15 - Meetings_

"Roth! Hey, Roth! Can I have a word?" Raven knew the voice, but only from classes. Draco Malfoy had never actually spoken to her before and she wasn't entirely sure why he was starting now. They were standing in line - well, little groups in the hall, really - waiting for Dracona (who had taken over the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher) to arrive and begin the class, and knowing what Draco Malfoy was supposed to be, Raven didn't really want to have any sort of conversation with him where there were witnesses.

Since Halloween it had spread around the school that Raven's magic wasn't _quite_ like everyone else's, but as the students didn't know why that was, no one had been willing to approach her. She was fine with that. Raven wasn't naïve enough, however, to believe there weren't any students at all - other than Harry and Hermione - who knew where her power came from. If Trigon had whispered into anyone's ear… Well, rumours Raven had heard at the school suggested Malfoy might be part of the tiny minority who knew who she was.

"That really depends on what you want to talk about," she said, then looked away from him. It took a lot to avoid using her powers to find out what Draco wanted. More than it should have taken - she really _did _want to know what he wanted to speak with her about. She needed to know if it was a topic overtly threatening to her or not.

A couple of people were laughing, no doubt at the way Raven had shrugged off Malfoy, and out of the corner of her eye, Raven watched him move as though to approach her. Dracona came down the hall at that moment though, opening the door to allow the class to file into the room.

"Meet me at the Hog's Head at three o'clock Saturday. Alone," Malfoy hissed into her ear as he pushed past to get into the class. Wondering what on Earth he could want to speak with have about - and _that_ badly - Raven followed him into the room, taking her usual seat on the far side next to one of the windows overlooking the lake. She could only assume this had something to do with her father and Voldemort, but _what_?

"Settle down," Dracona said as she took her place at the front of the classroom. Raven pulled quill, ink and parchment from her book bag and, writing the date across the top of the page, could have shaken her head at how… estranged she had become from her life back in Jump City. She hadn't been a student - a real student - in years. Now here she was, taking notes, writing essays and doing tests, all for the sake of a mission. She'd thought it would be interesting when the idea was introduced, but never had Raven believer she could enjoy being at Hogwarts as much as she did. It was strange, but at the same time, a nice feeling.

The class stretched on as Dracona went through a theory they were going to need for their next practical class - something about minor healing spells and counter curses which would react badly in combination with each other - and Raven found her attention wandering. She still took notes, but in an almost subconscious manner where her quill moved but she had little idea of what she was writing. Her eyes were focused on Dracona - specifically, the violet gem settled on the woman's brow, directly between her eyes - and as she watched, she could have sworn she saw - just for a moment - a flash of scales.

Blinking rapidly, Raven refocused on the lesson and her note taking. Between Dracona and Trigon, there was far too much demon activity happening in this school, and as much as she hated to think about it, Raven was _sure_ she was going to have to be the one to clean up the mess at the end of it all.

And she had no doubt there would be a mess. She just didn't know who would ultimately be the one to cause it.

* * *

_Come to my office after your final class today. There are things we need to discuss._

_Minerva McGonagall_

Short and to the point, the note sparked Raven's curiosity. She'd felt largely out of the loop since the school year had started, left as though her invitation here had been rethought as soon as it had been sent, and those who's sent it were at a loss of what to do about her. If the meeting with the Headmistress was to discuss the efforts against Voldemort and Trigon, then Raven was more than willing to meet with her.

She was on her way to the Head's office at that moment, her classes done, the note held tightly in her hand. This was a meeting she needed to have but Raven still wasn't entirely sure about Draco Malfoy's demand that she meet him in the village during the Hogsmeade visit Saturday. He'd never spoken a single word to her before now, so she couldn't even imagine what his motives were, but she knew she didn't at all trust what they might be. Whether he was acting on his own or taking orders from someone else, Raven wanted nothing to do with Draco Malfoy - at least, not if the rumours were true.

Then again, she knew better than to judge someone by their reputation.

The statue guarding the entrance to the Headmistress' office was closed and sealed against her when Raven arrived, leaving her standing, arms crossed, in front of it for a long five minutes before the woman arrived from elsewhere in the castle. After giving the password - some type of cookie - she beckoned Raven to follow her up into the tower.

"How are you finding everything? You have settled in well, I hope?" McGonagall asked conversationally once they'd reached the office. Raven forced a ghost of a smile for the small talk.

"Everything's fine, thank you," she said, causing McGonagall to smile.

"Well, that _is _good to hear, at least. Now, I've sure you have a fairly good idea of why I asked you here." Raven nodded once. "I have received intelligence about the attack on Halloween indicating You-Know-Who had nothing to do with the action taken here." She stopped speaking there, rather abruptly, Raven thought, and the young Titan saw a frown flicker across the older woman's face before she continued speaking just as suddenly. "I thought perhaps you might have a better idea of how it was arranged. Your display of power against those creatures was impressive."

McGonagall pursed her lips, looking expectant, and Raven took a moment to think about the attack on Halloween - before Professor Terlig's death had ended it.

"How deeply involved is your spy?" Raven asked.

"Deeply enough to know," the Headmistress responded, voice a bit stiff. Raven ignored the stiffness. She was getting used to her questions garnering that 'why-are-you-questioning-me' reaction.

"Then either your spy is a double agent and lying to you, or Trigon is acting through someone else," Raven responded, more hopeful of the truth being the former over the latter. If someone answering to Trigon was able to order Voldemort's followers around without his knowing - and there _had_ been Death Eaters there on Halloween - then they had more of a mess to clean up than they'd thought.

"Thank you, Miss Roth. It is as I thought, then." The woman shook her head and Raven, who couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't make the situation seem worse, said nothing in the silence that followed.

"You may go. If you think of any other possibilities, please let me know."

Raven nodded once and left the office. She wouldn't expect Trigon to work through more than one minion unless Voldemort was giving him more trouble than he'd counted on. She couldn't figure out, though, who else would have been able to issue orders to Voldemort's followers. If the attack on Halloween had merely been the creatures, she could have believed - easily believed - he had found another minion. This though… well, she was going to have to puzzle it all out. Unfortunately, she had no idea of where to start.

* * *

The week came to a close and Raven found herself faced with Saturday's Hogsmeade visit, and the question of whether or not she was going to meet Malfoy in the Hog's Head that afternoon. Having come to a dead end in trying to find the mind behind Halloween's attack, she knew it couldn't hurt any. She didn't have much else to do today anyway.

Raven felt wary though, and she couldn't pinpoint why. She had no doubt it was something to do with meeting up with Draco, but she wasn't entirely sure why she should be wary when she knew she'd gotten the better of far more frightening people than him. Sighing and shrugging it off as being unrelated to her meeting today, Raven pulled her cloak around her shoulders and fastened it in place. Her wary, uneasy feeling could be anything, and with nothing immediate threatening her, there was little reason to let her thoughts loiter on something that only _might_ happen.

Putting it completely out of her mind and returning to wondering what the Slytherin boy could possibly want with her, Raven made her way to the village of Hogsmeade. All she knew about the pub Draco wanted to meet up in was that it sat on the edge of the village, and that it was rather seedy. It sounded to her as though the Hog's Head wasn't really a place to have a meeting - alone - with someone accused of being a Death Eater, but Raven was hoping he would be more willing to speak to her this way.

Although, Raven had no idea what she would ask if he _was_ more willing to talk. She ought to have thought through a plan, but without knowing where to start it had been closer to impossible to prepare for today than she cared to admit.

At three o'clock that afternoon Raven stood outside of the pub staring at the painted sign and then, with a sigh, she pushed open the door and crossed the threshold into the dank room beyond.

"Over here," Draco's voice said lowly from a table in the corner when Raven looked around. She made her way over to where he sat, her eyes taking in the barman as she went, as there were no other patrons to be wary of. She slid into the chair across from Draco, categorising the long, grey beard and the bright blue eyes, letting her powers as an Empath take in the imprint he'd made on the bar, and then dismissing him. There was something strange about him, no doubt, but she didn't think there was any malevolent intent behind the strangeness. As for the boy in front of her though, Raven couldn't be as certain.

"What do you want?" she asked, keeping her voice low, unwilling to let the barman overhear their conversation.

Draco made as though to look over his shoulder, then appeared to think better of it and leaned forward instead. When he spoke, it was in a voice low enough in volume to rival hers. "I know what you are," he said. Inwardly, Raven tensed, but she refused to show him the reaction.

"Suggesting I'm not… what, exactly? Human? A witch? Female?" she countered. She wasn't surprised when her reaction failed to fluster him. She wasn't even surprised by what he said next.

"Not human. I know you're related to… to that _thing_," he said. He sounded nervous, but Raven couldn't really blame him - not if he knew about Trigon. But it wasn't even the sudden revelation that Draco knew of Trigon that surprised Raven.

It was the momentary red flash of the pale grey eyes that did it. The flash caused more than surprise in Raven - it startled her - especially since Draco didn't seem to have any knowledge of what had occurred. Raven, however, was on alert. There was something strange happening here - something very, very strange. At least she knew now why Draco had wanted to speak with her.

"I'm human where it counts," she said offhandedly. No point to denying what Draco already knew. "Why are we here, Draco? Did you ask me here solely to tell me you know 'what I am?'" Raven asked. This was a waste of time. She'd been stupid to think she'd find more information here.

"No!" he exclaimed. It didn't escape Raven's notice that one of his hands was inching toward the side pocket of his cloak, where she was sure his wand was kept. "You have to help me," he said. Raven raised a questioning eyebrow, and then detected something change in Draco's demeanour. "I—I think I'm in too deep."

Abruptly, Raven pushed herself away from the table and stood. She didn't have to deal with this, so she wasn't going to. "Don't lie to me. What are you hoping to gain from trying to manipulate me? My help in bartering with Trigon? You're right about one thing; you _are_ in too deep. When you've realised it, then we can talk. Not before."

Draco stared at her and Raven could read the frustration in his features. However he had expected her to act, she wasn't living up to it. Good. He needed to realise _now_ rather than later that this wasn't a children's game.

"So you're not going to help me," he said blandly after a moment.

Raven stared back at him, feeling the first threads of exasperation sinking in. "I will do _nothing_ to help Trigon further himself in this world. You can _remind him_ of that," she scowled.

The blond across the table from her rose and, looking down at her, spat out, "You'll regret not helping me."

"Not nearly as much as I would regret joining you," she replied coolly, then turned and left the bar and the idiot Slytherin inside behind. That hadn't been a complete waste of time, but she wasn't sure what to make of the little she'd learned. She had sensed something within Draco, and she had no doubt it had caused the strange flashing of Draco's eyes, but she was unable to tell if he was being outright possessed, or if he'd simply been granted some power or another.

That she couldn't tell bothered her the most. She hated to think something was blocking her, but she knew it was entirely possible - and worse, entirely probable. Whatever it was, she knew it had less effect when she was within the school's grounds, no doubt due to the strength of the magical wards there. She just found it unfortunate those same wards weren't stronger enough to close the connection between herself and Trigon. Immensely unfortunate.

Having no interest in exploring the remainder of Hogsmeade, Raven made her way back up to the castle, trying to put everything else from her mind in order to work out _when_ Trigon could have infected Draco. She couldn't understand _why_ the demon wouldn't have gloated about it when she had spoken with him. Unless… perhaps he had and she'd read his words as having a different meaning. She wouldn't have thought it likely, but perhaps when he had suggested there were other ways for him to break into this dimension….

Raven shuddered at the thought. Even if he couldn't be here physically, there was plenty of havoc he could cause just by having enough influence over people in this universe. He had proved _that_ already.

She made her way up to Gryffindor tower, trying to think about anything _but_ Trigon, if only for a moment while she brought herself back under control. The stress of the situation was beginning to cause her almost constant worry, and her control didn't come nearly as easily to her as it once had. It was a bad sign.

* * *

_Jump City - Titan's Tower_

Robin knew he'd promised Raven he wouldn't contact her while she was in Britain unless she missed their weekly check-in, but it didn't mean he didn't _think _about calling her often. Particularly in the past two weeks or so, since bizarre things he _really_ could have used Raven's advice on had started happening in the city. Robin was trying to keep the promise he'd made. He really was, but every time one of Jump City's criminals broke out of jail now, they escaped with abilities they hadn't had before. As even criminals like Control Freak, who had never really been a threat before, became more difficult for the Titans to deal with, Robin came closer and closer to calling Raven home.

In the meantime, since he hadn't yet made that final decision, Robin had hid from Raven what they were dealing with. He didn't want her to feel as though she needed to rush home, and he didn't want her distracted thinking about them while she was dealing with Trigon.

Robin stared up at the large screen in the Tower's ain room, contemplating placing a call to the Titan's East. He hadn't received any calls from them suggesting there was anything out of the ordinary there, but then, neither had he called informing them there was something amiss here. Truthfully, Robin was at a loss for what to do, but for now was only willing to admit it to himself.

Sighing, and wondering if he dared trespass into Raven's room to look trough her books in an attempt to figure out _what_ was going on here, Robin instead dropped down onto the couch and flicked on the Gamestation. It was November. Raven would be home, however briefly, sometime in December. He was sure they could hold out until then.

* * *

"I would like to know what it isss you are planning," said the serpent-eyed man delicately. He wasn't entirely sure where to focus his gaze - the creature he dealt with could be anywhere, or everywhere - but he knew, whoever the thing was, it could hear him clearly.

Whether or not it responded was another issue altogether. Sometimes it did, often it didn't, as though other things were more important. That frustrated, even angered him. What could _possibly_ be more important to this creature than communicating with the one who was going to bring it _into_ this world?

_"You will see when it is time for you to see. AS long as you reap the benefits, what does it matter if you know all that is happening?"_ The very air trembled as the creature chuckled, and the serpent-eyed man scowled.

"Perhapsss they are not _benefits_ I will wisssh to reap," hissed the man. "We are in thisss together!"

The creature laughed then, a malevolent laugh that would make lesser men cower. The serpent-eyed man, however, was not one of those lesser men and refused to bow to the intimidation. He would not be cowed by something that couldn't reach him here. He would not be cowed by an entity without a physical presence.

_"Don't be so sure of yourself. It would be a _shame_ for you to err so greatly at this stage…"_

Red slit eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?" he demanded. "Answer me!" he barked into the deafening silence settling around him. He knew it was too late though. The thing was gone, and there would be no chance of speaking with it until next it appeared.

"Lucius!" the man barked when he came up from the basement of the manor. The blond man was there instantly, grovelling low on the floor as Voldemort strode past him, robes brushing the mans face, ignoring the motion of servitude.

"My Lord?" the man asked from the floor.

"Call your ssson home from Hogwartsss. There are thingsss I need him for," Voldemort hissed out. Oh yes, there were definitely things he would need the young Malfoy boy for. He saw Lucius move as though to rise out of the corner of his eye and barked, "Did I give you permission to move?"

Resuming his position of abasement on the floor, the elder Malfoy responded, "Call Draco home, my Lord? For what reason? I will have to give the Headmistress some excuse."

"I do not _care_ what excuse you invent, Lucius. I need the boy. Now, get out of my sssight!" Lucius didn't need to know the boy's duties. Those would be entirely between Lord Voldemort and the boy himself.

As Lucius Malfoy rose and strode from the room, the man once called Tom Riddle smiled to himself. It wasn't a pleasant smile. In fact, it was one that made even his most dedicated followers shudder in fear. This smile meant pain… Glorious pain that Draco Malfoy was going to be his tool for causing.

* * *

_Author's Corner_

This chapter and I are not friends. It fought me every step of the way, so it's done. Shortness and all.

Harry in the next chapter, I think.

* * *

Completed - June 23/2009


	16. Revelations

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Titans, nor do I own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the two. Teen Titans is © of DC Comics, Harry Potter is © of J.K. Rowling, and Warner Brothers holds © over both of them.

**Author's Warning:** This is a crossover fic. :Watches people close the window.: Ahem. Those of you who do not like crossovers may leave now. The rest of you, I invite to continue on…

**Summary:** Trigon has returned, and Voldemort has joined him as a minion. Drawn by strange dreams, Raven must involve herself in the problems of others, including one Harry Potter, who is once again being plagued by strange nightmares. This year at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends are going to be pitted against their most difficult task yet. Destroying a force that even the Dark Lord himself fears won't be easy…

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Demon's Wrath, or; Year Seven and Negative One-Fourth**

_Chapter 16 - Revelations_

With Christmas break and the end of the fall term less than a month away, Harry had noticed a definite change in the manner of Hogwarts' student body. The whispers that filled the halls weren't mysteries to anyone, really. Owls from concerned parents wanting verification their children were still safe at the school had been pouring in at breakfast - and often at stranger hours, like lunch or in the middle of class - and the words on the lips of many of the students were the same; How many of their classmates would be left when classes resumed in January?

Harry didn't really think Hogwarts was more of a dangerous place now then it had been in years previous, even with Dumbledore gone, but he'd long since known he was in the minority there. Albus Dumbledore had been a very powerful wizard. If _he_ could be murdered on Hogwarts property, then anyone could.

And they'd already seen one death this year.

The first casualty of the year being the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher had escaped no one, and the same round of betting that had gone on when Professor Terlig had started at the beginning of term wasn't happening with Professor Seraphlin. No one who had put money on murder being the way the jinx acted out this year wanted to feel responsible for another death, should the curse act out _twice_ in one year. Those students who _did_ speak of Professor Seraphlin leaving at the end of the year were tame about it - many simply assumed she would move on to something else.

It added to the quiet, almost subdued manner of the students. No one _really_ wanted to leave the school - no one wanted to have to redo their years at Hogwarts when the war had cleared up - but at the same time, no one wanted to be away from their families should something happen, either at home or at Hogwarts. They were going through a state of panic, there was no doubt about that, but it was a sort of quiet, confused panic - no one _quite_ knew what to do.

Harry found it depressing, so he'd taken to spending as much time as he was able on the grounds or at Hagrid's. Anything to get out of the castle and away from the depressed looks on the faces of his classmates, and the worried looks the staff shot him whenever he was in their line of sight. Those were probably the most annoying - they looked at him as though Voldemort was going to burst through the walls and kill him as they looked on.

At least there wasn't much time until Christmas. Harry was looking forward to being able to relax, and to not having to leave the tower except for meals - and most of all, to being able to lounge around in the mostly empty castle. When it was deserted, maybe this depressed feeling it had taken on would go away.

"Yeh've been quiet, Harry," Hagrid said, placing a teacup the size of a small bucket down in front of Harry, and none-too-gently. Harry dipped his finger in the tea that had sloshed over the brim of the cup, using the spilt liquid to trace quickly evaporating designs on the rough hewn table. He supposed he _had_ been a bit quieter than usual this year. He hadn't yet managed to get detention (though he suspected that was more because Snape was gone than a change in _his_ behaviour) and he'd been so worried with what was going on _outside_ the castle that beyond Quidditch, he'd hardly been involved in the goings-on around the school at all.

"Everythin' okay?" Hagrid asked as he sat down on the other side of the table.

"As much as it can be, Hagrid," he finally replied, taking a sip of the tea and opting to ignore the platter of rock cakes the half-giant set out.

"Aye…" Hagrid murmured. "Yeh're still bothered about Halloween, then? We all are, Harry. No one saw it comin'." Harry knew the words were meant to take some of the burden he was feeling, but it failed to work. _Why _hadn't anyone seen the attack coming?

No. That was a stupid question. No one had seen it coming because they had no one on the inside, and Harry's visions had been coming more and more sporadically, so none of the flashes he'd gotten from Voldemort had tipped it off. Still, Harry felt as though he should have know. There _had_ to have been something they could have done to stop the attack.

"It's just… _everything_," Harry replied, "Dumbledore's dead, the Order's falling apart - or knows so little it might as well be - attacks are happening all over the place and Voldemort—" he ignored Hagrid's violent twitch and spoke over the half-giant when he opened his mouth, probably to scold Harry for speaking the name "—has some power that apparently only one person in the _world_ can counter."

Hagrid looked uneasy by the time Harry finished speaking, and the black haired teen could do nothing more than shake his head. "Sorry, Hagrid. It's just…"

"Yer frustrated. I kin see that, 'Arry. But all of this… It's not only yer responsibility. Even if they're still callin' yeh the Chosen One, we're all behind yeh, and the Order's not completely helpless. Not yet."

Harry nodded, although the prophecy Dumbledore had shown him in his fifth year was playing through his mind. He was having a hard time seeing it as not being his responsibility. He really was, since he wasn't entirely sure he could afford the _luxury_ of seeing it that way.

_'Neither can live while the other survives.'_ The words seemed to echo through his head, and Harry brought his mug to his lips to better ignore the concerned expression on Hagrid's face. Then, wanting to talk about _anything _other than whether or not he would survive his next encounter with Voldemort - and wanting to avoid even thinking of that as an eventuality instead of a possibility - Harry asked, "Have you thought of a place where that glen might be, Hagrid?"

When he'd last asked, Harry had noticed Hagrid became nervous at the question, but unlike other times Harry had seen the half-giant become so nervous, he hadn't revealed anything of use. He suspected he would get the same reaction this time - already Hagrid looked nervous - and he couldn't help but wonder what his friend might be hiding.

"I told yeh, Harry. Don' ask me 'bout that. I don' know nothin' to help yeh." But Hagrid had turned away and was petting Fang the Boarhound, perhaps with more force than he normally would, to hide his expression as he spoke what Harry thought was a definite lie. He just didn't know how to get around the half-giant's silence on the matter.

"Yeh should get back up t' the castle. It's gettin' dark," Hagrid said a moment later. It was so obviously an evasion that Harry almost refused, but since he knew he wasn't going to get anything more out of Hagrid, he knew trying to stay later wouldn't be worth the trouble he'd get in, were he caught sneaking back into the castle after dark.

"Right," Harry replied, rising from the table, leaving his rapidly cooling tea where it was. "Thanks, Hagrid. If you discover anything about that glen…" he left the question open because Hagrid was looking flustered again, and just a bit angry.

"Git on wit' yeh," he said, and Harry had known him long enough to hear the strain in the good natured tone. So he left, shaking his head and wishing he knew more to help Raven.

* * *

Harry took to doing some research of his own over the next week, sitting alongside Hermione in the library for hours at a time, ignoring the curious looks his friend kept casting over the books he was reading. He'd sat down and thought - really thought - about Hagrid's strange reactions to the topic of the warding in the Forbidden Forest, and he was almost _positive_ he'd figured out what was going on. The research was just to re-verify everything, really.

He figured that by now, he was so familiar with the workings of the Fidelius Charm that any research was just extra information on it he really didn't need. How to perform it, for example. That was information he hoped he would never need. Spending time in hiding just didn't appeal to him - he was sure it would cause more trouble than it would solve anyway, and how was he supposed to defeat Voldemort if he was hidden away from the world?

Harry just wished he could figure out why part of the Forbidden Forest was secreted away under such a heavy protection charm… and who it was hiding there. He had absolutely no way of discovering either piece of information, of course, just as he had no way of figuring out who the Secret Keeper was - though he suspected it would be Headmistress McGonagall. From what the research he'd done had told him, the Hogwarts grounds themselves probably wouldn't allow for anyone else to set up such a spell within the boundaries.

Getting McGonagall to tell _him_ what was hidden there was out of the question, but it was clear Hagrid was quite aware. Which made Harry wonder whether many of the other teachers knew what was going on, or if it were only Order members who'd been granted the knowledge. Another question without an answer. So far, all he'd managed to gather was a collection of scraps of useless information. He could only hope the questions he was asking didn't have direly important answers.

"Are you actually reading _Hogwarts: A History_?" Hermione asked. Curiosity painted her voice, and something like shock was there too. Harry gave her an irritated look, lifting his eyes from the page he was reading on the extension of the grounds, completely unappreciative of the tone in Hermione's voice that said she was seeing something she thought she would never see.

"Bloody useful book," he said, causing her to beam as though he'd praised her instead of her favourite book.

"Have you read the section on the installation of the plumbing? It's fascinating," she asked excitedly. Harry supposed she was happy to finally have someone to discuss the book with… but the plumbing? Really? He hadn't even known there was a section in the book on it.

"Sorry, Hermione," he replied and gestured to the open diagram spread before him, "I've only read the chapters on the ward layers."

Looking intrigued, she leaned in closer. "Around the forest?" she asked. "I've been wondering what you were looking up." With one finger she traced the line on the page dividing the lawns from the forest, then paused and began tapping the finger idly over the place where Hagrid's hut was now.

"Why are you so interested in the wards all of a sudden?" she queried. Harry ignored the suspicion in her voice.

"There's apparently a warded glen in the middle of the forest somewhere," he responded, moving her hand as he did. "As far as I can work out, it's about…" he tapped one section of the diagram, "_here_, but I can't find any record of the Founders, or anyone after, erecting any sort of warding there."

"Are you sure?" she asked, excitement entering her eyes as she pulled the book away from him, forcing him to grit his teeth when the sharp corner of the heavy cover scraped against his thumb. "Maybe one of the newer versions has it. I can run upstairs and grab mine…" she trailed off as Harry shook his head.

"I don't think it's actually a warding. At least, not this type. I think there's something there, hidden with the Fidelius Charm, you know, the spell Dumbledore—" he cut himself off at Hermione's bland look.

"I know what the Fidelius Charm is, Harry," she said testily. Of course she did. He gave her a sheepish grin in response.

"Right. So anyway, I figure McGonagall probably has to be Secret Keeper, right?" When she nodded, he continued, "But I can't figure out what could be hiding there."

"Could be anything," Hermione replied. "Or anyone. Much more likely. Someone Voldemort wants, maybe?" She tilted her head back in contemplation, then looked back at the book and flipped through the pages, her eyes moving back and forth, clearly taking in the words, but her hands not letting the same page remain open for very long. When she came to the end of the section in the book on the exterior wards, she finally looked back up at Harry.

"How do you even know about this?" she asked. "Are you sure there's something there?" Her brow was furrowed, her expression wondering how a book like _Hogwarts: A History_ could have possibly failed her.

"I'm sure," he replied. "Raven—" he snapped his mouth closed abruptly over the rest of the words when Hermione bristled. "I thought you'd accepted that she was trying to help?" he asked.

"I _have_," she said, though she sounded more than a little exasperated by the repetitious topic. Harry felt the same and had actually rather hoped they were beyond Hermione making irritated noises every time Raven's name was mentioned. Apparently not.

"You have, but…?"

"But that doesn't mean I approve of you going around doing all of her dirty work for her!" she exclaimed in an angry whisper, mindful of Madam Pince re-shelving books just down the row.

Harry let out a bark of laughter. "I'm not," he promised. She gave him a flat look, and he elaborated. "Really, Hermione. She came to me having seen something weird. She thought I might know what she'd seen, I didn't. I'm trying to figure it out. That's all."

Hermione was still giving him suspicious eyes, but she said nothing more on the topic. Instead, she flipped back to the beginning of the section on wards in _Hogwarts: A History_ and resumed reading.

"You're absolutely sure it's a Fidelius Charm, then?" she asked after another moment, halfway through turning the page. "It could just be a ward that's been put up since the last edition of the book was published."

"I thought about that," Harry replied. "But Hagrid got really weird whenever I tried to ask him about it. You know how he gets when he's nervous…" When Hermione nodded, he continued, carefully recounting Hagrid's strange reaction and uncharacteristic closed mouth-ness.

The contemplative look returned to Hermione's face. "The Fidelius Charm would make sense then," she said at length. "Assuming that Hagrid didn't say anything to you because he _couldn't_ and not merely because he thought you shouldn't know. But Harry, I can't see what this has to do with Voldemort, or Raven, or anything else that's going on. McGonagall must know about this since Hagrid clearly does… Maybe you should just leave it alone and worry about something that might actually concern you."

Harry gave her an angry look, "How many times have things that were supposed to 'not concern me' come back to bite me, Hermione?" he demanded. Madam Pince, who'd come closer, sent him a frustrated, reproachful look at the level of his voice, so when he continued speaking it was in little more than a heated whisper. "How many times would things have been better off if everyone had just told me what was going on from the start? I'm not a little kid!"

She folded her arms across her chest and frowned at him. "It isn't _me_ you need to be angry at about this, Harry, so stop misdirecting your anger. I'm trying to help you. There's plenty going on that you don't know enough about, and since most of it looks like it may _actually_ affect you, I just think you should be concentrating more on _that_ than _this_."

Well, he couldn't argue with her there. He certainly wanted to, but he couldn't.

"Fine," he groused, "Know-it-all." Hermione beamed at him.

"You and Ron would be lost if I weren't," she said, shuffling books and papers around so that her homework was once again on the top of the pile in front of her. Harry grimaced at the symbols she was translating. Ancient Runes. Exciting.

* * *

Raven _knew_ there was something happening, something involving Draco Malfoy, that she was missing. Unfortunately, she had the annoyingly persistent feeling she'd missed out on her chance to discover what it was, because Malfoy's parents had pulled him out of school not long after the incident in Hogsmeade. It made her nervous. More than that, it made her feel as though she wasn't going to get another chance at figuring out exactly how Draco Malfoy was involved. She had no hope of working out how he was involved with Trigon if she couldn't get near him.

The temptation was strong to try and delude herself into thinking it had been nothing. To fool herself into believing Draco Malfoy was misinformed, maybe to persuade herself he'd been listening at corners and had misheard before then jumping to a conclusion that happened to be correct.

It was too bad she simply couldn't make even the smallest part of her mind believe that. Draco Malfoy knew _exactly_ who and what she was. Worse, when she'd seen him that afternoon in Hogsmeade he'd given her enough cause to believe he'd learnt his information from the source - or someone very close to it. In her current position, however, she figured it to be unlikely she would manage to figure out who his source actually was.

The momentary flashing of his eyes she'd witnessed still bothered her. That she'd been unable to sense anything was off until that point in their meeting bothered her much, much more. Something had deadened her senses during that meeting. She didn't know what it had been and knew she had very little way of figuring _out_ what it had been without it happening again. Since she most certainly didn't want to feel that vulnerable _ever_ again… Well, Raven was almost willing to let it go.

Unfortunately, she didn't think she had that option. If something was blocking her, it was very unlikely it was accidental. To happen at such a critical time, at a time when she'd needed to use her powers… It couldn't have been a coincidence. Something, or someone, was interfering with her.

The question was, who?

Her immediate suspect was Trigon himself. Though she couldn't think of motive - motive was always something beyond her when dealing with him - she knew he most definitely had means. She'd conquered him once before, true, and she knew he'd been severely crippled at that time, but now he was gaining power again. He could contact this plane again, and if he could manipulate things enough to open communication with people here, then there was no doubt he could reach through and mess with her powers.

Yes, Trigon could definitely have been the one to stop her from figuring out what was wrong with Draco. Why then, could she not fully convince herself of his guilt? He was certainly involved with Draco and it made sense he would want to restrict her, as much as he was able, from figuring out how. Why then…?

Raven was confused. She was confused, and in the dark, and she hated it. She knew though, the importance of finding out what Draco Malfoy was involved in, preferably without his realising she was looking into him. She just didn't know how she was going to go about doing it with his being absent from the school.

It was with these thoughts in mind that Raven ventured downstairs, slipping past Parvati and Lavender along with a few sixth years, her destination the common room below. It was late, and she knew it would be a good, quiet environment for reading, since she had little hope of sleeping tonight anyway.

She was nearly all the way down the stairs when a shriek of surprise stopped her in her tracks. Gibbered words accompanied the scream and Raven raced back up the staircase to see Parvati and Lavender staring out one of the windows, eyes wide. Lavender was the one speaking, words still sounding panicked and utterly incoherent even as Raven drew level with her dorm mates and cast her gaze through the foggy glass pane in front of her.

"It could eat us! Is this Hagrid's idea of a joke?" Lavender babbled out, looking at Parvati. Raven shoved the both of them aside, ignoring their noises of protest.

"The Groundskeeper had nothing to do with that," she said lowly. Both girls glared at her, Parvati standing with her mouth slightly agape and a bit of a frustrated expression that said she wanted to tell Raven off for something - probably shoving her - but Raven's eyes were fixed on the blurred sight beyond the imperfect glass of the window panes.

"How else would a great ugly dragon have gotten to Hogwarts?" Parvati demanded finally. Raven shook her head.

"Don't let her hear you say that," she replied without looking at the other girl, her eyes instead carefully taking in and registering the colour patterns scattered through the great creature's scales. The creature was pale - it was really all she could tell from the way the form stood out against the dark night sky. The light being cast from the windows of the castle did nothing to really give any sort of colour to the body… but she knew it would be pale purple.

Raven pressed her face to the glass, trying to get a better look at the creature's wings, and the horns gracing its head. When that great head, and the swirling irises of the large eyes in it turned to face Gryffindor Tower, turned directly to look at Raven, she ducked. Stumbled, rather, arms flailing out to the side to grab onto the window ledge before she went tumbling head over heels down the stairs.

Raven had absolutely no doubt of where the dragon outside had come from, but its presence terrified her. Everything was wrong. Everything was wrong and the Order was in more trouble than it knew.

She needed to get to Headmistress McGonagall. She needed to get there _now._

With little thought for stealth, Raven took off down the stairs. Moving quickly, she barely noticed when she pushed past a fifth year Prefect who had come out of her dormitory to see what all the noise had been about, and she certainly didn't have the presence of mind to fully register the meaning behind Parvati's exclaimed, "It's gone!" when the words trickled down to her as she reached the common room.

Running full-out across the rug-covered stone, Raven only had one thought in mind, and she was entirely focused on it, and it alone.

The Seraphlin demon clan couldn't turn into dragons.

* * *

_Author's Corner_

How awesome was Tom Felton in the HBP movie?

Anyway, apologies for the delay on this one. I'm not really sure what happened. Enjoy the new revelations though!

* * *

Completed - August 16/2009


	17. Trigon's Daughter

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Titans, nor do I own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the two. Teen Titans is © of DC Comics, Harry Potter is © of J.K. Rowling, and Warner Brothers holds © over both of them.

**Author's Warning:** This is a crossover fic. :Watches people close the window.: Ahem. Those of you who do not like crossovers may leave now. The rest of you, I invite to continue on…

**Summary:** Trigon has returned, and Voldemort has joined him as a minion. Drawn by strange dreams, Raven must involve herself in the problems of others, including one Harry Potter, who is once again being plagued by strange nightmares. This year at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends are going to be pitted against their most difficult task yet. Destroying a force that even the Dark Lord himself fears won't be easy…

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Demon's Wrath, or; Year Seven and Negative One-Fourth**

_Chapter 17 - Trigon's Daughter_

The dragon had disappeared from the grounds just as Raven had been leaving the Tower. She _knew _that wouldn't give her very much time at all to get to the Head's office before Dracona either intercepted her or went to McGonagall herself. And somehow, she didn't think the woman would first try the latter.

No, Raven _knew _Dracona would be coming for her, if she had indeed been seen, and that only gave her a matter of minutes. A few minutes only, and she didn't dare give herself any longer of a time frame than that, because she simply had no idea at all how long it would take the woman to change back into her human form. If the dragon had disappeared from her classmates' view within the blink of an eye, she had no doubt it would take very little time for her to change back, regain her bearings and intercept Raven. No doubt at all.

She'd known from the very moment she met Dracona that the woman had power. Power so great that Raven would have very little chance of winning a one-on-one fight between them. When she'd met her though, she hadn't ever thought it would come to that. She'd been stupid. Naïve, and horribly so. As though she hadn't lived most of her life with prophecies hanging over her. As though she hadn't known the inner workings of a demon's mind intimately.

She'd gone ahead and taken Dracona completely by her word, the jewel embedded in her forehead, and the power pouring from her. Assumed she was who she claimed to be, because she didn't think anyone would have the _gall_ enough to pretend to be Seraphlin clan, let alone a Blooded member.

It had been the perfect cover story. One that Raven really had no way of checking, one she had never come to doubt, and one that would have upheld if the demoness hadn't gotten it into her head to go flying across the grounds at night in full view of the school. Perhaps it had been too perfect, but when the only person she could have consulted for the details would have been Trigon… Well, Raven had been more than willing to take Dracona at her word.

That turning out to be a poor decision now didn't surprise her at all. She'd been stupid, and there was no doubt she was going to pay for it because she was quite certain she'd just uncovered something she was never intended to uncover.

She'd been warned. She couldn't even claim she'd been operating completely blind. She had dismissed it as nothing at the time, but she _had_ been warned. The man in the wand shop, back in California when she'd been first brought into this whole mess. What had his words been?

_'Her clan breeds tricksters, and she's one of the best.'_ Yes, that had been it. She hadn't given the words any thought at the time, beyond being the ravings of either a lunatic, or a man who had been mistaken about the identity of her companion. Now, though, Raven wasn't so sure it had been either. If the man had known _exactly_ who Dracona was… Well, then Raven probably would have done well to listen to him.

What he'd given her had been a riddle at best though, when she'd had little idea of how the Seraphlin clan could have possibly be considered 'tricksters' in any light. Of course, if Dracona was indeed not Seraphlin clan as she'd claimed… Well, Raven was caught amidst more problems than she wanted to be right now, and in order to have any hope of solving _any _of those problems, Raven needed to get to Headmistress McGonagall's office _now._

Having been so caught up in the urgency of her own thoughts and the haste the situation required, and so grounded by habits she'd had to develop while living in this building, it was only now, halfway to McGonagall's office, that Raven remembered it was past curfew. There was no risk of anyone catching sight of her doing something she shouldn't be able to do. As soon as she'd departed the common room, she'd been able to instantly transport herself to the Head's Office.

She could have been there. She could even now be explaining to McGonagall what she'd discovered. Had she really become so accustomed to not having to act? If so, she was going to be utterly useless to the team once she cleaned up things here and returned to Jump City. _If_ she could clean up things here, behaving as she was.

"You know, Raven, I'm surprised at you," came a voice from behind her. Raven froze, then moved her hands quickly, pulling the darkness of the hallway around her, ready to slip away—

Violet light surrounded her hands, shredding through the energy Raven had collected, and the half-demoness could do nothing other than stare at the woman coming toward her as Dracona's power surrounded her and held her in place.

"None of that," the woman said, voice almost chiding, "I just want to talk."

Raven grit her teeth, letting disbelief show on her face. She didn't have any other choice but to stand here and talk, but well, that didn't mean she was going to make it easy on Dracona. She had absolutely no intention of making any of this easy.

* * *

"I really do just want to talk, Robin."

Suspended in some sort of anti-gravity field, glowing red and unable to move his limbs and with the rest of the team no where in sight, Robin had no choice but to listen. He knew they were around, somewhere, but he also knew that if the masked man holding him didn't want interruptions, there wouldn't be any interruptions. Robin couldn't blame the team for not being here. It wasn't their fault. It was entirely Slade's.

Robin hadn't at all minded letting Raven leave the city to travel to Britain, even knowing Slade was around. Since Trigon's first appearance, and Slade's interest in Raven, it had seemed better to him to let her get as far away as was possible. Robin knew from experience where Slade's interest could lead, and hadn't borne any wish to see what would happen if that interest was fully focused upon Raven. Not if Slade was back in form and not being controlled by anyone.

Then again, by the power Slade was exerting today, Robin wasn't entirely sure it was safe to say he wasn't being controlled. It seemed to Robin that Slade was benefiting from the same powers the other criminals of Jump City had gained. Since Slade was more than dangerous enough on his own, without any sort of magic boosting his abilities, Robin was well aware this meant bad news no matter which way it was spelt.

Worse, perhaps, was that Slade seemed to already have figured out how to fully use the power he'd been given. That was something none of the others had done yet. They'd been easy to recapture, stumbling as they'd been over their own abilities, creating problems which made them hesitate more than the Titans, but Slade, Slade was different.

Slade was always different.

"Talk then," Robin snapped. He had no interest in what Slade had to say. Not really. All Robin had interest in was making a beeline for the Tower and demanding Raven return to Jump City, problems across the planet in Europe be damned. She was the only one of the team knowledgeable enough about this mystical stuff. She'd have some idea of where the powers had come from, and of how to fight them, and Robin wasn't willing, when it came to Slade, to allow his team to be crippled any longer.

He wasn't willing at all.

"I'm disappointed in you, Robin. I thought you were always _thorough_. Meticulously so. Isn't that what I taught you?" was Slade's response, everything about it mocking, causing Robin to grit his teeth lest he spit out something he would later regret. He _was_ thorough. He _was_ meticulous. But he wasn't going to respond to Slade when he knew, no matter how casual the comment, that the man had no good intentions.

It bothered him, however, that this time he had no idea what he was supposed to have been thorough about.

"Usually so thorough and yet… You let her go off without doing any research at all," Slade continued.

It wasn't the response Robin had been expecting. Slade's knowledge of Raven being absent was commonplace - the strangest rumours had come about since she'd gone to Britain, and the villains in the city certainly knew she was away _somewhere_, even if Robin had been trying to avoid a press release to inform the public of her whereabouts. As far as he was concerned it was Titan business alone.

Unsurprising, then, that Slade knew all about it.

"What do you want with Raven?" Robin demanded, suddenly feeling very, very worried for the fate of his team mate. Raven had been making her weekly check-ins, and she'd _seemed_ alright. Not perfectly well, of course, but Robin knew the stress she had to be under, trying to deal with something involving Trigon all on her own without much support at all. It was entirely possible, though, for something to be going on there that Raven hadn't deemed necessary to mention to him. It would be just like her… and if something was going on that Slade knew about but Raven _didn't_, well… Robin certainly wasn't comfortable with the images his mind was creating for him. Perhaps Slade had been right. _Why_ did he just let Raven go off without any preamble, without research?

He didn't need anyone to answer the question for him, of course. Robin knew full well that he'd allowed Raven to go to Europe because she _was_ the best one to deal with Trigon. He couldn't fully regret the decision, even if he now would prefer Raven to be within a reasonable contact distance instead of over half a dozen time zones and an ocean away. Even now, he wasn't really sure that calling her home would be the best decision for all involved, though he was aware it was a choice he needed to make as the leader of his team.

"I? Nothing, as I've found Raven to be rather out of reach at the moment," Slade replied, looking so collected Robin wanted to punch him for that alone, and would have were he able to move. It was clear to him that Slade was up to something. Since Slade was always up to something, though, Robin wasn't as consoled by this knowledge as he could have been. He was worried that, by calling Raven home, he would inadvertently bring her into more danger than she was facing in Europe; more danger than the team was dealing with now, without Raven around. Robin knew the team would be that much strange if Raven was here to compliment them, but if she was Slade's target he didn't know that it was worth it.

Robin hated the indecision wreaking havoc through him. Faced with Slade, he was fully aware he couldn't afford the distraction it caused.

"I know you want something! Just tell me what you're up to!" Robin demanded, knowing he was losing his cool but unable to control it and keep himself from futilely struggling against the power Slade was holding him in place with at the same time.

"I told you already, Robin. I only want to talk."

It took more self-control than it should have not to bark something back at the man, but Robin held his silence, not wanting to listen to Slade ramble on but knowing he would eventually be told whatever Slade wanted to tell him if he stopped interrupting… No matter how much it pained him to simply let Slade talk, knowing he couldn't silence him and knowing the man could leave _whenever he wanted_ with Robin utterly unable to do anything about it. Finding himself in situations where he could do _nothing_ were scarce enough that when they happened, they frustrated Robin immensely, bringing on the dimly tortured feeling he had now.

"By now I'm sure, Robin, that you've managed to work out the origin of my power," Slade began, and Robin forced himself to remain silent, knowing Slade would likely answer any question he had without any prompting at all. He was certain, by now, that his idea of the origin of Slade's power was accurate. Still, having the man confirm it, unprompted by Robin himself, and in his own time…

Robin's eyes followed Slade as the man paced back and forth in front of him, holding his tongue, keeping his eyes narrowed, wary. He knew Slade was playing with him, could practically feel the knowing, cocky, confident expression sitting behind that orange and black mask and it irritated him, but he knew there was nothing he could do. Knew it, and that knowledge made him grit his teeth, frustrated by the entire situation and wishing Slade would reach his point and leave hi be. He needed time - and space - to think things through. Time, space and solitude, none of which he could get until Slade was finished with him.

"Trigon." The name hung in the air after Slade had spoken it, lingering between them in a way that forced Robin to push away his knee-jerk reaction. He wanted to snap, to do _something_, but had knowledge enough to know it would get him nowhere, and training enough to endure his feelings of unease and to put forth a general outward appearance of patience.

Trigon's name coming up in this conversation again wasn't a shock. Robin had fully been aware that Trigon was likely the only power great enough - and willing enough - to spread his strength out to the criminals of Jump City as he'd done. It didn't surprise Robin, either, that Trigon had the ability to interfere in two very different places at once. Didn't surprise him in the least.

"I suppose you have something of a guess, Robin, toward what Trigon's goal might be," Slade said, tone turning the statement just short of an inquiry. Robin fought against the immediate impulse to respond for a moment, giving himself time to form a decent answer, grateful things seemed to finally be moving.

"Raven. A bigger empire," Robin offered. It had been what Trigon had been after before, and though Robin was _sure_ Raven's ability to act as her sire's portal should have expired… He couldn't see any other reason for these things to be happening now.

"Yes, and no," came Slade's response, fully demanding Robin's attention for the first time. It was unlikely Slade knew even half of what Trigon wanted, but all the same, he would take any information the man was willing to offer.

"Trigon, as far as _I _can see, has little-to-no interest in his daughter's whereabouts or actions," Slade replied. Robin doubted it. If Trigon knew Raven was interfering with his operation, Robin had no doubt the demon lord would be very interested in Raven indeed. But Slade had already alluded to knowing where Raven was and what her reasons were for being there, so Robin continued to hold his silence. There was no reason to give Slade any indication of whether or not his sources - or assumptions - were correct.

"What he _does_ seem interested in, of course, is _power_ and it seems he has found that power, and a large, constant source for it as well…" Slade trailed off, and when he started speaking again, Robin knew he was smiling behind his mask. "Come now, Robin. You can't possibly be _utterly _disinterested in everything I have to say. In fact, I would go as far as to venture that this is the most intriguing part of our conversation so far today. Do feel free to join in at any point."

It was these comments, more than any other, that made Robin wish he was able to keep his silence. Knowing though, that Slade was actually far less likely to continue speaking from this point onward though, Robin realised he didn't really have any choice but to return to participating in the conversation.

Gritting his teeth at the absolute control Slade had over him here, Robin replied, "The Wizards in Britain."

Slade nodded. "Quite a feud you let your little witch friend wander off into," he commented.

"She didn't go in blind," Robin retorted. Slade shrugged and Robin, tired of the way the conversation was going, struggled against the power holding him in place.

"You seem exasperated, Robin. Have you gotten so out of practice that you can't hide such a thing from me?"

He couldn't help but respond to the taunt. "Either finish with what you came here for or let me go!" he demanded, bringing forth a soft laugh from Slade.

"Just a warning, Robin. I thought I would make sure you knew that Trigon's daughter is in more danger than you thought. My sources tell me there are more things at work than she might be aware of, and I'm sure you wouldn't want to see Raven… hurt."

Then Robin could suddenly move his body again and he was picking himself up from the ground, relaxed muscles recovering from the extended period of not serving their proper function.

"Robin?" Starfire called and he looked over at her and the rest of the team gathered around, all four looking confused. Robin wasn't sure how much time had elapsed, but he knew it had been long enough. The team looked worried, and Cyborg's focus was torn between his arm scanner and Robin.

"Where were you?" Cyborg demanded finally. "You weren't here - you weren't _anywhere_, and then all of a sudden you were back! That's not even possible!" the half-robot exclaimed sounding more than a little irritated, and almost a though he were offended his scanners had been tricked.

"It was Slade. Trigon gave him powers, again, and he knows how to use them," Robin replied. His team mates looked at each other and Robin frowned, ignoring the meaning behind the look. "I think Raven's in danger. We should get back to the Tower, see if we can't contact her." The words earned him looks somewhere between shock and disbelief, but Robin ignored these too, set his sights on the Tower and began to head home. Whatever was going on in Britain, he was quite determined to get the whole story.

* * *

'Just wanting to talk,' it seemed, was defined differently by Dracona than it was by Raven. The lavender haired witch had found herself cornered, her back pressed solidly against a wall, hands bound in front of her by the demoness' power, unable to summon her own magic, unable even to spread her hands apart or use them for balance. She was in a bad spot, almost completely at the other woman's mercy unless someone came along or Dracona faltered. It was horribly uncomfortable.

"No one would believe you, you know," Dracona was saying casually and Raven ground her teeth together, mind working to find a way out of this, trying to avoid processing Dracona's words because she knew that were largely needless. She already knew it would take a convincing argument to prove Dracona wasn't what she said she was, but a second way, a better way, of making that argument had already crept into her mind. She just had to be sure not to let it slip here, to Dracona, and to ensure she departed from _this_ encounter still fully able to talk about it. It would take a lot of research to figure out just who Dracona was and what her powers were; research Raven simply didn't have at her fingertips right now.

"What is it you want?" Raven demanded. Dracona gave her an eloquent look, but Raven refused to back down. "What do you hope to gain from this? Are you working for Trigon?" Raven continued.

Dracona scoffed. "Of course not," she scowled. "If I were, you would have immunity. You aren't _this_ stupid, Raven. Are you?"

Raven glared at her but forced her anger away, mostly out of habit, unsure if with her hands and power bound as they were it would matter anyway.

"Then what is it you want?" Raven demanded again.

Dracona smiled, and Raven decided immediately that she didn't like the almost-smirk at all. It spoke of malevolence, and there was no question now that the man in the wand shop had been correct in saying Dracona was a trickster - despite the smirk, Dracona still radiated a fully comforting aura. Something changed in Dracona's expression then, something Raven couldn't _quite_ point out, but it brought about a realisation she could have done without.

"I'm useless to my father," she intoned, keeping her voice so neutral it came out sounding dead. "Having me, trying to use _me_ to threaten him wont get you anywhere." The woman was mad. Raven had a hard time registering and believing the expression on Dracona's face, but she registered enough to know that she was probably in danger deep enough to warrant panic of some sort.

Numbness spread through her instead. Trigon wouldn't give Dracona any sort of power in exchange for Raven's compliance. That, at least, was comforting to know. No sort of alliance needed to be formed there.

"You're mad," Raven whispered. Dracona gave her a sceptical, slightly incredulous look, to which Raven could only shake her head.

"You discovered this far more quickly than I would have liked," Dracona commented, "But I suppose it's my own fault. I _was_ rather careless, wasn't I?"

Raven held her silence, knowing speaking wouldn't be of any help anyway.

"Do we have an agreement Raven?" was asked then, and Raven could only stare at her, unsure of how to respond, not knowing what she was supposed to be agreeing to but knowing it wasn't something she would be willing to comply to.

"An agreement?" she repeated, questioning. The query evoked a nod from Dracona. "Saying what?"

"If you don't go running to a teacher, trying to tell your story, immediately following our meeting tonight… I suppose I can hold off on finding out _just_ how valuable you still are to Trigon," Dracona explained. It was absolutely nonsensical, but Raven couldn't see that she had any other choice. She had no fear here. Trigon didn't have any use for her - she was certain of it - and if she could get Dracona to hold off on whatever she was really up to… well, she needed time to work out who Dracona really was, and how she was going to prove it anyway.

"Fine. I accept," Raven replied.

Dracona gave her a critical look, and Raven was relieved to watch the violet power binding her hands seep away. Panic began to crest within her, though, when she realised there was still something blocking her power.

"You—"

"Run back to your dormitory now, dear," Dracona said, cutting her off. "That block will wear off in an hour or so. I couldn't have you attacking me here, now, could I?" And with that Dracona disappeared, violet light filling the corridor as she did, leaving Raven standing and blinking, wondering just how she would deal with having both this woman _and_ Trigon as enemies.

* * *

_Author's Corner_

…four month delay. Um. Oops? University is very time consuming, unfortunately.

* * *

_Completed: December 18/2009._


	18. Leavetaking

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Titans, nor do I own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the two. Teen Titans is © of DC Comics, Harry Potter is © of J.K. Rowling, and Warner Brothers holds © over both of them.

**Author's Warning:** This is a crossover fic. :Watches people close the window.: Ahem. Those of you who do not like crossovers may leave now. The rest of you, I invite to continue on…

**Summary:** Trigon has returned, and Voldemort has joined him as a minion. Drawn by strange dreams, Raven must involve herself in the problems of others, including one Harry Potter, who is once again being plagued by strange nightmares. This year at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends are going to be pitted against their most difficult task yet. Destroying a force that even the Dark Lord himself fears won't be easy…

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Demon's Wrath, or; Year Seven and Negative One-Fourth**

_Chapter 18 - Leavetaking  
_

Raven had bought herself time, but that didn't mean she could avoid the knowing, haughty looks Dracona kept shooting her way over the final two weeks of class before the holidays. She'd spoken to Robin only hours after the incident. He'd contacted her, and despite the control he'd shown throughout the conference, Raven knew there was more going on than he had mentioned in the brief, "Slade's become more active, the team needs you home," that had been communicated. She'd received the feeling Robin knew more than he was letting on, but hadn't called him out on it. Instead, she'd carefully convinced him that the team could do without her until Hogwarts' Christmas holidays - how she'd managed it with Robin so dead set on her returning to Jump City, she still didn't know - and then had closed the connection to work Slade's increased activity and the knowledge of his newfound powers over in her mind.

Buttering a roll and looking a bit listlessly at the bowl of stew in front of her, Raven furrowed her brow, frustrated by the lack of obvious connection between the incidents in Jump City and Trigon's operations here. It was perfectly clear to Raven that her place right now was back with the team, but she was torn all the same. Though nothing had happened at Hogwarts since the attack on Halloween, it was quite obvious to her that something was building, and Raven was _sure_ when it all came together it was going to explode.

She needed to be around when that happened, she could feel it. Her obligation to the Tower and her friends at home, however, forced her to put the entire situation into perspective. She would return home over the holiday, and would remain there until she was sure the rest of the team could handle things on their own, even if it meant being away from Britain and the problems at Hogwarts. Even if it meant leaving Harry to deal with things here all on his own. Raven, who had never been forced into a position where she had to choose between friends before, wondered if she was making this out to be more difficult than it ought to be.

Returning to Jump City, though, didn't require her to stop thinking about the problems here altogether. The research into Dracona's identity she needed to do would be much easier to do if she was away from the school and back at the Tower. Knowing that, at least, came as a relief.

Her Christmas vacation had little chance of being restful, of course; with everything she had to do, and Robin's reasons behind asking for her return, she knew rest was completely out of the question, but Raven hoped all the same that the change of scenery would bring _some_ sort of inner peace to her. Her emotions had been threatening to rampage lately, the threat of her losing control completely becoming greater as the days passed, and she _knew_ returning home would help that. Really being able to exercise her power again, and being around people who, even if they didn't fully _understand_ her power, still respected her need for peace and quiet, would help her regain control. Even if the struggles against herself would only return once she re-entered Hogwarts - whether that was immediately when classes resumed in January or not - the chance to rein in her power would make her less likely to completely break down and lose control later… And she most certainly needed that.

Sighing to herself as she finished her dinner, Raven rose from the table, ignoring the stares she received - still, after a month and a half had passed since Halloween! - as she left the Great Hall and made her way back to the dormitories above.

"Hey, Raven!" called a voice from behind her as she climbed the staircase in the Entrance Hall. The lavender haired girl slowed to allow Harry to catch up, turning her head slightly when he had arrived beside her.

"You didn't look finished," she commented, earning a shrug from her companion.

"I was," came the response, then, "Hermione, Ron and I wondered what your Christmas plans were." When she shot him a sceptical look, making it clear she doubted Hermione had wondered any such thing, he refused to back down and lowered his voice as he continued, mindful of a group of Ravenclaws making their way down the stairs toward herself and Harry.

"Since you're working alongside the Order anyway," came the continuation and Raven wasn't all too sure she wanted to know where his thoughts were going. "I, at least, hoped you planned to spend Christmas at Headquarters with us."

Raven forced a tight-lipped smile for him, not really sure whether Harry was extending an invitation or not, and finding herself a little uncomfortable with the idea, as well as definitely grateful she didn't have to worry about her response. Even if she had wanted to spend two weeks in close quarters with Harry and his friends - which, though she got on well enough with Harry, she definitely did not want to do - she didn't have that choice.

"I'm going back to the States," she replied. "My team back home are in over their heads and need my help." She followed him as he ducked behind a tapestry, assuming he was headed in the same direction as she, and not at all averse to walking through less busy parts of the school… especially for this conversation.

"You're leaving?" Harry asked, sounding as though he couldn't believe it. "Even with everything going on here, you're leaving?" He actually sounded a bit betrayed, which Raven definitely hadn't been expecting. How to explain this properly?

"I don't have much of a choice, Harry, and it's possible whatever's going on back at home is related to things here anyway."

Harry pushed aside another tapestry as they reached the end of the passageway, using the opportunity to frown at her as she passed through before him into the hallway beyond. "How so?" he asked as he followed.

"The criminals in Jump City are acting with Trigon's signature. It might be a distraction, it might be a real problem. I don't really know. Either way, I'm going home at the end of term. If Robin had his way, I'd be home already," Raven explained.

"End of term is tomorrow," Harry pointed out with another frown and Raven nodded. "Are you going back on the train?"

Raven responded with a flat look. "I don't see the point. I'll leave before dinner tomorrow. I'll be back home at a reasonable time, that way." She raised an eyebrow at Harry's slightly confused expression, waiting for just how she was going to manage to get herself from Hogwarts to California so quickly to dawn on him. When the recognition registered in his eyes, she shook her head and kept walking, leading the way up the next set of stairs.

"I suppose you aren't connected to the Floo there, if I need to talk to you," Harry commented, leaving Raven feeling a bit thrown by his tone.

"You could owl," she offered. "Why would you need to contact me?"

"Owl would take too long. Might as well wait until you got back to the school," came Harry's response. "If something happens _here_, with Trigon, I think you should be reachable."

She hadn't expected this from Harry, and in hindsight she wasn't entirely sure why. Perhaps it was the lack of planning. She hadn't at all intended to let anyone know her plans to return to Jump City. She had to speak to Headmistress McGonagall still, of course, but she'd intended on doing that minutes before she left. She didn't want any contact with Dracona before she left, not if the woman knew where she was headed. She didn't need Dracona thinking _she_ had been responsible for driving Raven away. Perhaps it was a little prideful, but she didn't think it was something she needed to deal with. She just wished Dracona didn't already know where she lived.

"You can always reach me," she pointed out, and Harry gave her that confused look again that made her want to roll her eyes. Before he could ask 'How?' - because she _knew_ the question was forming - she said, "Think about our lessons. Remember what I've taught you, and _why_ I taught you it." When he nodded slowly, still looking unsure, she added, "Now. Do you think you could get into contact with me if you needed to?"

Harry looked hesitant, but he nodded again, a noise of agreement coming from somewhere in his throat. "I thin the barrier and reach for you through it, right?" he asked.

Raven cringed inwardly at the rough way of describing the technique, but replied, "Basically," anyway. Then, quickly, "Don't try it now, and only do it if there's some dire emergency. As a last resort." When Harry looked unsure, and as though he'd like to protest, Raven fixed him with a glare.

"I mean it. If I think you're going to misuse the invitation, I'll block you out entirely." She met Harry's furious look with the same cool glare until his looked away, reluctant agreement in his features.

"Fine," he grated out and Raven thought, had she been someone else, she might have laughed at the obvious struggle he had squishing down his temper.

"As long as we're on the same page," Raven said. Harry grumbled something she couldn't quite make out, and so she ignored it, passing it off as merely being his frustration at things not going his way yet again.

"If I find out something I think is important enough, I'll make sure you know it," Raven offered as consolation once they'd reached the portrait hole.

Harry turned his head toward her, surprise in his eyes. "Do you think you're likely to?" he queried. Raven moved her shoulders in a shrug, feeling a bit uncomfortable by how he'd pounced on the offer.

"I plan on doing research whenever I get a chance," she responded. "And once I've been fully informed of what the team's involved in back at home, I hope I can make some connections to what is happening here. I can't guarantee anything, but I think the likelihood of there being some sort of clue is pretty high." Never mind that she was sure things would become clearer once Dracona's role in this mess was fully clear. She wouldn't mention it to Harry though. She _couldn't_ until she had more solid proof, though the rumours about the dragon were spreading through the school anyway, and the Gryffindors who had been present to see her flee the common room that night _knew_ her to be more involved than she'd say. (At least, she figured they did. She couldn't see why they wouldn't, unless they were stupider or less interested in it all than they pretended to be.)

"I guess that's fair," Harry said finally, sounding grudging at best. Raven didn't respond beyond a wave as she headed for the stairs to the girl's dormitories.

"It'll have to be. It's all you're getting," she replied as a parting after shot as she started up the stairs.

* * *

"You should have allowed us the courtesy of more advanced notice, Miss Roth."

The Headmistress' voice was close enough to be scolding that Raven could bristle, but not close enough for her to fire off a sarcastic retort and actually get away with it. Stewing for a moment and forcing down her anger when it seemed as though it might breech her defences, Raven managed to reply after a long moment, "I don't recall hearing about an obligation to remain at Hogwarts for my Christmas holidays," with as much respect in the tone as she could muster on top of her usual monotone. She hadn't even told McGonagall yet that she didn't know when she would be able to return. With the reaction she'd received so far, it didn't seem likely she would.

"I should have thought, by the way our request was formed back in July, and the way the situation has been progressing thus far, that our wish for you to remain was clear," the older woman replied.

Raven took in a long breath through her nose, focusing her attention on the sleeping portraits scattered around the office instead of looking at the Headmistress. She didn't think she could fault the woman for her thoughts, and even allowed her mind to entertain the notion - just for a moment, mind - that she was being selfish. But then, the Headmistress didn't have any idea of Raven's problems with Dracona, and while she knew she absolutely couldn't say anything yet - not without more, solid proof - it still frustrated Raven that McGonagall seemed to have no idea of what was going on in her school. She had a grip on her anger though, and knew if there was one thing she was good at - even if it was the _only_ thing she excelled at (a bitter thought in itself) - it was keeping solid control over her emotions.

"I understand that. I had fully intended on staying here until the problems were cleared and Trigon removed, but something requiring just as much of my attention arose in my team's jurisdiction. You have plenty of people here equipped to deal with a threat that's been dormant for a month and a half. They don't, and I didn't come here to ask permission.

"I'm leaving, Professor McGonagall, and within the next hour. I'm sure you and the Order can deal with things here while I'm gone," Raven said, rising from her seat. She thought she'd handled the situation admirably, even eloquently, and if Minerva McGonagall didn't agree… Well, Raven was beyond caring. As far as she could see, anyway, she hadn't been of much help here. She'd certainly found herself mired in their problems, but the bog was only getting deeper and she hadn't yet managed to figure out if there actually was an escape route. Hopefully separating herself as much as possibly from the problem for a while would help her work out the escape. It if didn't, she supposed she would just have to try something else.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall paced back and forth in front of her desk, her restlessness and aggravation over this situation something she knew she could only really work out in private. Never mind that all of her predecessors were watching her as she paced, probably quite glad this wasn't an issue _they _had ever needed to deal with.

"I believe, Minerva, that the situation is still under as much control, and in hands as capable, as it has been all along," came Dumbledore's voice from his portrait behind her desk. She looked up at him, ignoring the mixed range of agreement and disbelief in the reactions from the other portraits on the walls, though the disbelieving sounds mirrored her own reactions. Minerva frowned, trying to read Dumbledore's aged, painted features, and encountering only the disguising serenity the man liked to project.

"Before you interrupt," Dumbledore jumped in jut as she opened her mouth to demand his justification for being so optimistic, "I think I should tell you that Miss Roth, as far as I have been able to observe - and, if I may say, I believe I've observed her quite a bit more than anyone else - is very deeply involved in our problems indeed. She has taken everything quite seriously, Minerva. Let her do what she will. I think you may be surprised by the results."

McGonagall gave him a wary look, tempted, very tempted, to just let the previous Headmaster take the reins as he always had, but aware she was the one who needed to be able to deliver the explanations which would justify her actions. Not Dumbledore.

"Let her go where she will, Minerva," the man coaxed. "It's her holiday, and besides, I think you will find she doesn't perform as well confined as you might hope."

Minerva sighed. She'd lost this round, she knew it, and even if she'd felt like summoning up some sort of argument, she realised it would fall on deaf ears.

"It doesn't seem as though I have much choice in Raven's actions anyway," she finally conceded, irritated by this but keeping her voice at a disapproving level instead of one that outright revealed her ire. Dumbledore nodded, and Minerva could practically _feel_ the satisfaction radiating from the former Headmaster.

"I just hope nothing serious happens while she's gone."

* * *

Classes finished for the term, a small bag packed full of homework an research notes she'd made over the past few weeks - a springboard for the work she needed to do once she arrived home - slung over her should, Raven sighed. She stood staring out of the dormitory window, looking across the grounds, alert for anything she might spot out of place. There wasn't anything to see though. Faint smoke from the Gamekeeper's cabin, spiralling up into the early dusk, a couple of students from an indiscernible house involved in a celebratory end of term snowball fight. It was all so deceptively peaceful, leaving Raven feeling a bit more unsure about her decision to leave than it should have. There was nothing that could change her mind though. She had to leave.

Letting out a long breath and relaxing her features, Raven adjusted her book bag, and then her familiar blue cloak, pulling it around her a bit better because it was most definitely _not_ suited for wearing in a daftly medieval castle during the winter, and stepped away from the window. Her wand, too, had been stored in her bag. It would come back to Jump City with her to keep up appearances, but she didn't plan to use it while she was there. She looked forward to being able to use her powers freely, as they were meant to be used, again. True, her term at Hogwarts had taught her things she may never have learnt otherwise, but Raven doubted using the wand would ever be as comfortable to her as it was to her peers here at Hogwarts.

A stupid observation, probably, since Raven knew how unrealistic expecting her to adjust so easily to using a wand was. All the same, it had been something that had filled her mind at times throughout the term. Maybe it had only been her, and a bit of self-consciousness knowing her performance with the wand was visible to so many people. She was certain, after all, that no one had really been watching to see how her spell work fared - they'd always been far too occupied by their own work to bother - and anyway, Raven had learnt all of her course spells quickly enough that observation probably wouldn't have mattered… But the self-conscious thoughts had remained.

So now, as Raven gathered power into her hands, pulling the quickly deepening shadows from the corners of the room and beginning to wind them around herself, she couldn't help but to allow herself just the tiniest indulgent extension of power. It rippled through the room, not as tendrils of black, but more like a wave of feeling with no compliment in the visible spectrum, rustling papers and causing the drapes around the four-poster beds to begin to sway. She could feel through the power the pulsing of the school's wards through the stone at her feet and the tower walls surrounding her, could sense the faintest trickle of life still present in the wood of the bed frames, and the much greater, barely contained energy within the flames dancing in the central heating stove.

Even the slightly stale water in the jug on the window ledge and the barely-present, icy breeze coming in through the unsealed gap between window frame and wall had life, the breeze amplified enough to lift Raven's hair from its limp style and send it dancing around her face even as she reached a peak of hypersensitivity and readiness to set out.

With a last, almost fond look around the dormitory, Raven finished pulling the power around her and sent herself _up_, passing through floors, walls and warding with ease, vanishing entirely in a swirl of shadow before she could erupt from the top of Gryffindor Tower. She felt the very last, and strongest, set of wards allow her through then, knowing instinctively as she crossed them that it was thee wards alone keeping Trigon from the castle…

And then warmth surrounded her and a bit of spray from the bay hit her in the face as Raven fully materialised on an outcropping of rock on the island shore beneath Titan's Tower. A seagull cried overhead and Raven looked up, shading her eyes against the bright, nine o'clock sun, feeling content by the lack of… _anything_ pressing up against her defences. Home.

Allowing a content, almost secretive smile to grace her lips for a moment, Raven rose into the air and hovered up the short incline to the main entrance of the Tower, feeling her body relax with the familiar weightless sensation, if only for a short moment before she landed again, placing her hand on the entry scanner a moment later. She felt the smile threatening to creep back as the heavy metal door slid open in recognition, the dark, gaping maw of the room beyond the mot welcoming thing she'd seen in quite a while. Though she definitely wouldn't say it to anyone - at least unprovoked, she had a reputation to uphold, after all - it felt so good to be home.

* * *

_Author's Corner_

That chapter was short, but I also reached a really natural ending point for it. The stuff that's going to come in the next couple chapters threatens to be really heavy anyway, and I didn't want to start getting into it here. Too much for the tail end of a chapter, so more Titans and maybe a bit of Draco plus some actually visible Snape soon to come.

To clear up a very minor plot-hole, back in the first part of this chapter, I am aware I mentioned in a previous chapter that the Floo network was shut down. Harry wasn't really thinking, and Raven's not too well acquainted with some of the Wizarding world details. In case you were wondering.

Anyway, slowly but surely ploughing along through the story. I've taken to writing by hand and then transcribing which certainly takes longer, but I'm trying to write faithfully so I hope there aren't too many more huge gaps between updates. I really want to see this story almost finished, if not completely wrapped up and over, sometime before 2011. A long haul since _Demon's Wrath'_s initial conception, to be sure, but I think well worth it.

Also, I'm aiming, throughout 2010, to write 2000-odd words/day. Or at least some amount that'll average out to that by the end of the year. (A 730 000 word goal in total for the year if you wanted the math.) I have plenty of original stuff I want to get a significant amount of work done on as part of that goal, but I also intend to put great effort into this piece.

There's hope for the ending yet.

(End really long author's note.)

* * *

_Completed: December 28/2009_


	19. Home

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Titans, nor do I own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the two. Teen Titans is © of DC Comics, Harry Potter is © of J.K. Rowling, and Warner Brothers holds © over both of them.

**Author's Warning:** This is a crossover fic. :Watches people close the window.: Ahem. Those of you who do not like crossovers may leave now. The rest of you, I invite to continue on…

**Summary:** Trigon has returned, and Voldemort has joined him as a minion. Drawn by strange dreams, Raven must involve herself in the problems of others, including one Harry Potter, who is once again being plagued by strange nightmares. This year at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends are going to be pitted against their most difficult task yet. Destroying a force that even the Dark Lord himself fears won't be easy…

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Demon's Wrath, or; Year Seven and Negative One-Fourth**

_Chapter 19 - Home_

"…and there shall be Glorg, and more of the pizza, and herbal tea and mustard and…"

Squished in the utterly inescapable hug the Tamaranian girl had captured her in the moment she entered the Tower's common area, Raven could only direct the bemused look she wore at Starfire's welcome toward the mass of red hair in her line of sight. Rave probably shouldn't have been surprised by Starfire's being entirely prepared to throw her a 'Welcome Home' part, but nonetheless she found it came as a bit of a shock. She didn't entirely know _what_ she had been expecting upon her return to Jump City, but she didn't know that it had been anything so… relaxed. That was the difference between here and the Hogwarts tensions.

Though the Titans were fighting a war of sorts themselves, it wasn't nearly at the level of Britain's Wizarding war. The fear here was no where near the level of constant fear shared by everyone involved in, or aware of, the war in Britain. Raven knew, though, there was more going on here than her friends would reveal to her just yet. Trigon was acting here. She'd been called home. There was a _lot_ more going on than the cheerful welcome would reveal to her, and though she hadn't fully expected such a cheerful reception, she could embrace it, and she _would_ embrace it, because she and her friends had been separated long enough to put everything aside, if only for a few hours.

"Is there pizza _now_?" Raven asked when Starfire finally pulled away to leap into the air and fly a loop happily above them before landing again. "I left just before dinner." When Beast Boy gave her a strange look, turning to glance pointedly at the clock and clearly under the impression she may have lost it entirely in her time away, she rolled her eyes.

Over the next few days, she was sure she would be keeping stranger hours than she usually did, knowing it would take a couple of days for her body to fully adjust to the eight hour time difference. The knowledge didn't bother her. After all, she had plenty of ways to spend those waking hours, so many things to do over the next little while she didn't know she could actually afford much sleep… Though she was well aware of how important keeping herself awake was going to become.

"Time difference, Beast Boy," she pointed out when it was clear he hadn't quite caught on. "I've been eight hours ahead of you for months."

The green skinned Titan stared at her for another long moment before saying, "Oh. Right," a bit sheepishly. Raven shook her head, pointedly rolling her eyes in his direction again and then looking over toward the kitchenette area where Cyborg was standing bent, digging in the refrigerator. A moment later he turned, holding a plate with food on it out toward her.

"No pizza, but we have waffles!"

Raven allowed a bit of a smile to sneak onto her features, taking the plate and resting it on the counter so that she could eat. Aware, though, of the entire team's gaze focused upon her, she was only a quarter through the meal before she looked up, a cool expression on her face.

"What?" she asked.

"You— you _smiled_," Beast Boy commented, sounding a little bit unnerved.

"I do that," Raven retorted quickly. Then amended it to, "Sometimes," a moment later, having taken another bite of waffle. They continued looking at her though, and Raven sighed. "_What?_" she finally growled again.

All except Robin quickly pretended to be looking at something else. "You look good, Raven. A bit frazzled, but good," he said after a long moment in which she knew he'd been evaluating her.

"See if you're still saying that after my first training run," she commented musingly, a bit of exasperation seeping into her voice.

He gave her an amused look, to which she could only respond, "You think I'm joking."

* * *

She hadn't been joking. She had, in fact, been very serious when she'd mentioned just how off form she was - and even, it turned out, understating it. No training beyond practical schoolwork and reading for four months had increased her obstacle course time by more than forty-five seconds. It was less than impressive.

"Think you can give it another go, Raven?" Robin called as she stared out over the course set up at the base of the Tower, running through her progress through it in her head. She gave him a frustrated, sceptical look in response and watched, irritated, as he flashed her a grin.

"Give us something new. You're sticking to your old forms, and they don't look as comfortable as they used to. Why don't you just let whatever feels natural come out?" he suggested.

Surprised, Raven mentally worked her way back through the obstacle course again. _Had_ she held back at some points, changed what she'd been going to do in favour of moving in a way she would have _before_ going to Britain? She hadn't thought so, but she could certainly think of areas where now, in hindsight, she knew of better ways to _deal _with those obstacles.

Perhaps she'd learnt more than she'd previously realised.

"Reset the clock," she replied finally, feeling more confident than she had at the beginning of the first run through and glad for it because the confidence boost was definitely something she needed. Robin nodded and she watched the timer reset, aware of the smile on his face and the expectant, curious looks her other team mates worse.

Without a word, Raven rose herself into the air, attention fully focused upon the course before her, the only indication she had of the computer program's initialisation the objects before her suddenly coming to life.

Focus entirely in front of her and trying to put any other thoughts that might sneak up to the forefront of her mind aside - the exercise more difficult than she ever remembered it being before, which wasn't a good sign in itself - Raven started forward. Black aura poured from her hands as she moved, weaving her flight between the stun explosives the first set of machines fired at her, automatically bringing up a near-invisible spell (which she a few moments later realised was a _Protego_ charm) between two of the discs when they crossed her path and nearly collided. A bubble of black wrapped around them to contain the explosion and stop it from singeing her as she passed by mere moments later.

She weaved easily over and under the guillotine-like obstacles that came next, her levitation unhindered, not something she would ever forget regardless of having been unable to exercise the skill much over the previous four months. This section of the course was easiest for her to get through. Though even as she thought it, Raven found herself forced to become incorporeal in order to glide directly _through _one of the thick metal sheets, unable to swerve above or below it quickly enough as it came crashing down in front of her, its pattern out of sync with the others in the series.

Beast Boy's shout of "Cheater!" echoed across the front of the island as Raven began ducking in and out of the fists thrusting upward from the ground, mindful of her inability to fly _overtop_ of them due to the discs hurling past overhead that would likely knock her out of the air. It was generally easier to go around the obstacles below than to fling herself into the minefield above. Beast Boy's comment, though heard and catalogued, went unacknowledged.

Raven came out of the other side of the course moments later, breathing a little heavily with the effort working through it had taken. Her eye found the stopped timer and Raven held back the sigh that threatened to escape. Quicker. She'd taken nearly twenty seconds less time to pass through the course, but she still wasn't nearly up to par. To be expected, maybe, but Raven was becoming tired of not being on top of her game. At least being aware of it meant she'd (hopefully) be able to conquer it more quickly. She'd be of no use to anyone if she didn't.

"Better, Raven!" Robin called across to her, resetting the timer again. She rose up into the air and flew across to join him at the control booth as he called, "Terra, you're next!" and then turned to her, setting up the course as he did so.

"So, fill me in," Raven said once the clock had started and Terra began moving through the course. Her eyes locked onto the blonde Titan and Raven thinned the completely locked down shield being at Hogwarts had forced her to develop so that she could take in the feelings of her team mates. She processed their emotional states as Robin began speaking, her powers allowing her intimate awareness of the deeply felt tension the team held onto. A thread of guilt trickled into her as she realised their stress had probably only grown in the two weeks she'd put off returning home.

"We think, almost positively, that Trigon's just as active here as he is over in Britain, but how it's possible has been unclear so far. _Slade_—" Robin practically spat the name and Raven cringed. The tone in itself told her how hard Robin had been forcing himself to hold back on this conversation until Raven was settled back in. Though it had only been a day, it was clear that day had taken its toll. "—has been active, like I told you, but what Ididn't_ tell_ you before you came home is that he's been dropping your name." He paused there and Raven found her eyes narrowing.

"That can't be a coincidence," she murmured. "Someone mentioned the criminals having extra powers?" she queried then and Robin nodded, pushing away from his place at the control panel to give Cyborg space to take over his position when the other Titan came over. It was clear this conversation was going to take a while.

"Their new abilities have to do with Trigon, there's no doubt about that," Robin said. "What isn't clear, is what his motives might be. He's been handing out power, and I can't tell if it's meant as a distraction, or if he wants something… Or both."

Raven frowned. "It has to be both, if it's not only that he wants something," she said, quite certain of the statement. "Demon Lords _don't_ just go around handing out their power. What else has Slade said?"

Robin frowned, and Raven could see his mind working, trying to put together all of the pieces of the puzzle laid out before them. "He's been dropping your name. A lot. He's interested in _you_ again, Raven. That much is clear but I don't know what he wants, and I don't know what Trigon wants, and I _certainly_ don't know if they're actually acting together, or if they have completely different agendas."

The sun, shining so brightly above them, felt colder after Robin's frustrated, nearly desperate sounding announcement. Slade was interested in her again, but there had to be something Robin _wasn't_ saying. If Slade had an interest in her, surely it would have been better had she stayed in Britain, no matter the problems the team was having here. Raven wasn't stupid. She _knew_, especially now, that something had happened - perhaps Slade had said something? - that Robin didn't want to tell her.

How she was going to figure out what that was… Well, that was its own problem altogether.

"They're not working together. Not unless Trigon's issued orders to Slade… And why would he bother with the hold on power he has in Britain?" Raven murmured. Robin shot her a look tinged with a bit of worry.

"How can you be so sure? His M.O. could have changed," Robin replied. It was a legitimate observation, she supposed.

"You're forgetting that Trigon isn't human. He doesn't think of things the same way you and I do. His way of operating has only failed him once - why should he change what works? Besides, there's plenty more power available to him with the control he's gained in Britain than _anything_ Slade could offer," Raven replied, going cold at the thought. She knew she'd had no choice but to return here, but even so, it was going to require a lot of self control to not go running either back to Britain, where she could be of some use, or far from Earth where she wouldn't have the results of her remaining in California flung in her face.

Deep down, she knew she hadn't abandoned anything, but the knowledge that her being here could result in the team holding her back from doing what was necessary out of worry for her safety brought forth feelings of guilt. Massive ones.

"I don't know whether to hope you're right, or not," Robin was saying in response. She could practically feel him mulling her words over behind his masked gaze. "It's better to think Trigon distributed his powers and is keeping control over them, than to think criminals are running amok with them with no control at all."

"Easier, you mean," Raven corrected. "Easier to think there's only one combined motive, with one thing to take out that will stop it all, than to accept the reality of motives and a gigantic clean-up project."

Robin was frowning, but Raven didn't retract the words, nor did she apologise for the pessimism. She was too occupied by reflecting upon how they applied, in just the same way, to the problems in Britain. Voldemort wasn't just going to go away when - when, not if - they removed Trigon's influence. To think that he would was optimistic and naïve at best, and meant utter devastation for all of Wizarding Britain - and perhaps the entire Wizarding world - at worst.

"Easier," Robin conceded with a bit of a deferential nod. "It's good having you home, Raven."

Not having expected the sentiment in the middle of such a conversation, Raven found herself catching her eyelids halfway through the motion of widening reflexively, and, feeling embarrassed for no real reason, responded, "It's good to be home," casting her gaze out over the obstacle course. Beast Boy and Cyborg were racing through it, Starfire and Terra cheering them on. Laughter reached her ears and, for the first time she could really recall since things had gotten more severe, Raven let a smile - a genuine, full smile - touch her lips.

* * *

"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos…"

The words did nothing to put her at ease despite her need for them to sooth her, perhaps no more than ever before. Raven felt shaken to the core, and for no reason she could really pinpoint. Certainly, he'd been in bad spots before, and her instincts often - if not always - lead her in the same direction.

Knowledge. She was forever being driven to trying to gain more knowledge to save herself from rough spots, and now more than ever she needed more knowledge to figure out how to progress forward. Whether or not her chosen course of action was going to prove beneficial remained to be seen. She hoped, almost desperately, that it did.

Raven had spent most of a quite peaceful day working her way through her library, trying to work out just what Dracona Seraphlin actually was. All she'd come across, though, was information that further spoke of the Seraphlin demon clan, pointing out to her in a blunt manner how stupid she'd been to take the woman on her word alone. She didn't need the reminders. She knew how grave her mistaken had been already, and had probably known, unconsciously, the ultimate heading her course of action needed to take.

Azarath. Raven hadn't been back since Trigon's last invasion, quite content to keep herself as far from the isolated, in-between place as possible, and even now she was only returning there as a last resort. The great temple library, she was sure, would have the information she needed - and more. It was only a matter of gaining access to a place that wasn't open to everyone, while nearly being an exile herself. Raven didn't like leaning on the favour Azar had paid her while still alive, or on her own mother's position in the ranks, for that matter, but she knew it was necessary. It would be better than sneaking in, anyway; her last resort if going about things by the proper channels failed. Raven had no illusions about the trouble she'd face, were she caught.

Even so, she sat now in the centre of a circle of sand, room dark with the drapes drawn to shut out the artificial city lights usually shining in from across the bay. She'd demanded complete peace, ordering the team not to disturb her unless there was an emergency. She hoped, though, that she'd be able to get this done within a few hours. She didn't want to deal with the team later if something came up and she was no where to be found.

That thought in mind, Raven extended her hands, a match lighting with barely a thought as she looked at it and lifted it in a swirl of power, invisible in the dark room. Lighting each of the candles set around her circle with sure motions of her hands - even lighting the last with an incantation and tap of her wand out of wry amusement - Raven allowed herself one calm look around the room with its candlelight-cast shadows, then took a long breath and closed her eyes as she began the chant which would open the passage to her home world.

"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos…

"Carazon, Rakashas, Endere…

"Vaserix, Endrien, Azarath…

"Azarath, _Azarath!_"

Her vision went black as the room around her vanished and Raven would have felt sure she'd gone blind, had she never used this ritual before. As it was, she could feel little more than the rushing of power as it moved her through the very fabric of time and space, supporting her, pushing her forward impossibly fast while at the same time leaving her feeling as though she wasn't actually moving at all.

It was uncomfortable, but it was supposed to be. The discomfort the spell caused to the body of the user was Azarath's last defence against those who would harm them. A world of pacifists, once the threat had entered into their world, Azarath wouldn't rise up in defence if it meant using violence - even if to stay peaceful would bring about their destruction. Raven didn't agree with the preferred course of action, but trying to suggest they should operate otherwise was pointless.

And beyond that, it was Azarath's pacifistic nature that had allowed Raven to survive to adulthood. She had no place speaking out against their way of life.

A kaleidoscope of colour broke across Raven's vision then as she neared the seal at the end of the passage, her senses running on high alert, wary and trying to detect anything that might attack her now, even as she knew she was completely safe. Nothing could hurt her while she was in transit, and Raven knew that, but things had gone wrong far too often for her to completely trust in what was supposed to be. It was a sad truth, but one she'd come to live with.

Raven's hand met the seal as she reached the end, letting her feel its resistance, representing the desire of the people of Azarath to simply be left alone. Like the people it protected, though, the seal gave in as Raven applied pressure to it, forcing it to allow her through whether it wanted to or not. It was a fitting entrance, she thought, since she knew she was going to be applying the same pressures with the same attempt to break through, when it came time for her to try to gain access to the library.

There was a moment more resistance, a last ditch effort to convince Raven to turn back, and then she had broken through into the clear, night time sky on the other side.

Azarath. She wouldn't call it home, though it had been for her childhood. Home could only refer now to Titan's Tower; she refused to allow two places the title, when one fell so short of the warmth and welcome the other offered.

No, Azarath wasn't home, and it brought her little comfort to return here, despite the peace she could feel in the air. Azarath was calm, at least, but that was because they held themselves so separate from everything else. It was giving them too much undue credit to grant that they held the peace well, as far as Raven was concerned. It was harsh, she knew, but she'd never been able to change the way she felt.

It didn't matter anyway. Raven had come here for one thing and, as she alit on the highest balcony of the great temple, eyes having caught a movement of the drapes covering the nearest window, she let out a long breath of air to focus herself.

"Arella," she greeted, turning to face the doorway as one of the great carved doors opened inward, revealing a white cloaked figure on the threshold. Though Raven couldn't see her face, she knew no one else would be up here at this time of night. Arella would have felt her pass through the seal - it was no coincidence she'd come outside at this moment.

"Raven," Arella returned, a warmth in her voice that had been absent for Raven's entire childhood, and that she now found more than a little uncomfortable. Not Arella's fault, she knew, but memories from growing up here, and of being the little girl who had spent too much time learning to control her emotions and forbidden from seeing her mother, intruded.

"Why are you here?" the older woman asked a moment later, when Raven had done nothing more than stand stock still to reign in the foreign combination of emotions swirling through her. She probably shouldn't have returned to Azarath, but now that she was here there was nothing more to do than to continue on with her intentions. She couldn't forget her goal.

"I need to use the library," Raven responded. Arella lowered her hood then, looking a bit wary in the faint light spilling out through the open door.

"Come inside, Raven," she said instead of acknowledging Raven's request. She stepped back into the room, pushing the door open further in invitation. Raven had no choice but to follow, feeling a little frustrated. This was going to take longer than she'd hoped it would.

"It's very late," Arella observed once they were both inside, the door shut against the cooler outside air. Raven didn't respond, well aware of the time, and conscious of having chosen this time to come for a reason. Not only was the team back home asleep and unaware of her absence, but most of the monks here in Azarath would be asleep as well. At least, those who would give Arella a hard time about Raven being here.

"I know," she finally responded, delivering the words in a simple tone, slightly more offhand than her usual monotone when it was clear that Arella didn't want to say anything further if Raven wasn't going to actively participate in the conversation.

"Perhaps it would be better if you waited until the morning, and then we discussed this. You know that access to the temple library is strictly controlled," Arella said, taking a seat in a large chair next to a fire burning low in the grate. It was banked for the night, and Raven suspected Arella had actually been sleeping when she'd arrived. She didn't care - this was important.

"I need to return home by morning," Raven stated, not caring that she was coming off forcefully, though she could detect Arella's rising ire. Yes, she was being a bit rude, especially since she'd come here knowing she was going to meet resistance, but just as she'd had to push through the seal to return to Azarath in the first place, Raven was willing to push a bit to get what she wanted.

"I'm involved in something at home that I don't have the resources for, and I _know_ the library here does," she paused, but when Arella opened her mouth to respond, ploughed right across her again. She could sense Arella's resolve starting to form, and knew if she didn't get across to her _now_, she was never going to. "Arella... _Mother_, please. I don't know how to communicate the importance of this, but people's _lives_ are on the line. I'm not asking you, or anyone else on Azarath to become involved but I _need_ access to the books."

Raven watched, then, allowing her powers to read Arella's emotions on the air, disregarding all she'd been taught, in this very building, about the etiquette involved. No, she probably shouldn't be reading the other woman like a book, trying to detect her verdict before she spoke, but Raven was on edge. There was no reason, really, for her to not be allowed access to the library, but Arella would come under fire if it was found out she'd allowed Raven in without consulting anyone else.

"You will need to be gone by morning," Arella finally said, and Raven suddenly felt lighter, and then instantly a bit guilty for presenting her need with so much force. "And you're to tell me what you're looking for and why, so that we can ensure you'll be gone before the earliest risers awake and realise I'm not in my bed."

Raven nodded and waited for Arella to rise and cross the room to the door leading deeper into the temple, following as the older woman passed her, letting her gratitude slip onto her features. If she found what she needed here, she knew there was a better chance of her being able to save Britain. She was well on her way, she was sure, and that, more than anything else, gave her hope for success.

* * *

_Author's Corner_

The Azarath chant is directly from the Teen Titans wiki. If it's wrong, it's my fault for neither pulling out the issue of "Go!" it was in, nor looking it up in the episode it was featured on in season four.

I've reached over 100 reviews on this story, and it makes me incredibly happy. **Thanks guys! **I'm so tempted to gush on about how awesome it is that so many people faithfully follow and read and leave comments on this story, but I'll spare you having to read me going uncharacteristically sentimental.

I apologise for another long break between updates. Happy, drivel-filled scenes like the opening of this chapter are most definitely not my strong suit, and I struggled through making it convincing and interesting to write, hopefully successfully making it interesting to read through my efforts.

For those following, I am horribly behind on my WriYe goal. (Which has been halved since its conception.) And, in case I really needed to add anything else onto my very full plate, I recently filled out the Beta Reader form here on FFnet. You, (yes, you!) can now find out first hand just how irritating I am to work with!

* * *

_Completed: Feb. 18/2010_


	20. Taken

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Titans, nor do I own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the two. Teen Titans is © of DC Comics, Harry Potter is © of J.K. Rowling, and Warner Brothers holds © over both of them.

**Author's Warning:** This is a crossover fic. :Watches people close the window.: Ahem. Those of you who do not like crossovers may leave now. The rest of you, I invite to continue on…

**Summary:** Trigon has returned, and Voldemort has joined him as a minion. Drawn by strange dreams, Raven must involve herself in the problems of others, including one Harry Potter, who is once again being plagued by strange nightmares. This year at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends are going to be pitted against their most difficult task yet. Destroying a force that even the Dark Lord himself fears won't be easy…

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Demon's Wrath, or; Year Seven and Negative One-Fourth**

_Chapter 20 - Taken_

Though Raven knew she didn't have a choice but to do her research _now_, part of her wished it wasn't so late at night. Though her day had been mostly uneventful, she'd still been up early to train that morning, and knew her mind wasn't as sharp now as it could be. Arella hanging over her shoulder as she read probably wasn't helping her concentration level any, either.

Well, perhaps that wasn't fair. Arella wasn't hovering. In fact, her mother was doing her best to be of help, with the little information Raven had given her. They were working now through two different classes of demons - those whose natural forms were draconic, and those who merely shifted into dragons as part of their repertoire of abilities. Raven had little idea which Dracona was, though she suspected, by nature of the woman flying across the grounds at night when she could easily be seen, that she fell under the category of the former. They'd been here for over an hour now, though, edging on two, and Raven hadn't managed to learn anything more than that.

"What sort of dragon, Raven?" Arella asked suddenly, looking up from the book she was pouring over. Raven glanced across at her, moving her lamp so that the candle within cast more light between them and less on the stacks - there was nothing of use on the shelves in this section anyway.

"Wyrm," Raven replied. "Maybe Asiatic. Horned, violet."

Arella pushed the open book across the table toward her and Raven reached forward to putt it the rest of the way, bending to better see the drawing etched into the ancient vellum pages. The words surrounding it were in Sanskrit, and with a bit of a struggle and more than a few glances back at the illustration when references were made in the text, Raven read through the description.

"That's her," she said hollowly. The text was ancient, well over a thousand years old. For Dracona to be recorded in it meant she was more of a danger than Raven had previously thought. It was no wonder her powers were so great.

"Her being able to hold a human form for so long surprises me," Arella observed as Raven carefully turned the page, hoping for more information and disappointed when there was none.

"That's why she was caught," Raven replied. "She must have gone too long without changing back. She couldn't hold her form any longer, and changed before it was safe." It made sense, or would if it accounted for Dracona's lack of control. Thousand year old, Blooded Demonises - for she hadn't lied about anything but her clan, as it turned out - had better control than that. They were _trickier_ than Dracona seemed to be. Something more was going on than Raven could see, and she couldn't help but to wonder if it was something that would end up hurting her if she didn't figure out what it was in time.

"You said she's claiming to be Seraphlin?" Arella asked and Raven nodded instead of trying to formulate anything to say, feeling stupid for having believed the lie so long and not liking admitting to it - and worse, having to talk about it further.

"It seems like a daring claim to make."

Raven nodded again, countenance set firmly in an expression of frustration. She did _not_ like this conversation.

"She claimed it to gain my trust. She'd not working with or _for_ Trigon, I _know_ that much. Unfortunately, that leaves so many more motives, none of which I can even fathom. Knowing who she is doesn't even give me any insight."

She shut the book, ignoring the wary look Arella wore. _She_ knew she wasn't losing control with the slight display of emotion. She didn't care what her mother might think.

"You know who she is, most importantly." Arella stated. Raven shrugged uncomfortably. She knew it was quickly nearing the time when she had to leave, and clearly Arella was acutely aware of it as well, but Raven didn't feel like what she'd learnt gained her any advantages. Dracona, after all, knew everything there was to know about her - or at least might as well, with how little Raven knew about her in comparison - and that didn't inspire her with any hope of besting the woman. She still had to figure out what Dracona's motives her been in dragging her into this mess.

It was clear she wanted Trigon out of the picture, but why? Raven didn't know the first thing about the Lyftcynn clan; at least not when it came to their methods of operating, or their goals. And that knowledge, she suspected, would be much more helpful than anything the legends surrounding Dracona would offer. At least, more helpful than the legends in _this_ particular text. Lyftcynn was a Germanic name, and a text in Sanskrit was unlikely to be as helpful, being from a completely different part of the world. If she could find something in Latin, or even Old English or ancient Greek (though she was well aware of how much work she would have in translating the latter two) she thought they'd be of more help.

"Who she is, what she is… I can only hold them over her head if she cares that I know the information, and if I can do her harm with it," Raven pointed out. Disapproval flowed in waves from Arella, no doubt at Raven being willing to strike out at Dracona when Azarath's teachings said to do otherwise, but she ignored the outpouring of emotion. There were lives on the line. Pace, and avoiding confrontation and violence at all costs wouldn't help her.

"I don't think you'll find much else here, Raven," Arella stated. It was a lie, Raven knew, said to force her into either making the decision to stay until morning so she'd have to go through the appropriate channels to gain further access to the library, or to go home. In a quick moment, Raven opted for the latter. Though she knew how much easier finding another source in the temple library would be, Raven was almost certain that the Hogwarts library - or maybe even her personal collection, or one of Jump City's underground occult libraries - would have a Lyftcynn reference _somewhere_. Yes, she was headed toward even more work, but Raven knew she had little choice. She'd returned home for the holidays knowing how much work she had to do. She couldn't shy away from it now.

"Thank you," she forced herself to say finally, recognising that it really wasn't Arella's fault for being so wary about Raven staying here. While Raven had been raised here, and thus had certain expectations of the monks, her mother had been taken in while pregnant _because_ of who Raven was. Arella had different expectations of the same monks and, more important, was expected to behave in a certain way. Raven had always gotten away with more than she should have, both because of her heritage and required training, and grace and favour shown by Azar. Arella hadn't, and that the older woman was scared now was unsurprising.

"I'm sorry, Raven," Arella blurted a moment later, and Raven shook her head, Arella's guilt, nearly covered by her worry but still present, inspiring guilt in Raven in turn. Guilt for making Arella feel as though she hadn't at all been helpful, Raven suspected, which simply wasn't fair because she now knew more than she had earlier this evening.

"It's fine," Raven said, voice flat in her usual monotone as she pulled in all of the feelings trying to creep to the surface and clamped them down. She began leading the way from the library without saying anything more, aware of Arella hesitating and then quickly following when it was clear Raven was neither going to stop walking, nor turn around. She would return to the Tower, and then sit up and work her way through her texts again, looking for anything she could find about the Lyftcynn clan. Though she didn't think there was a promise of finding anything, Raven knew she wouldn't be able to distract herself from it until she knew for sure. It was going to be a waste of time, but a necessary one.

Without any further conversation, they reached the upper chambers where Raven had entered, and Raven wavered a bit at their parting. Arella looked unsure, and was giving off waves of discomfort for no reason Raven could tell. And though she really didn't want to launch into any sort of deeply involved conversation, she turned to her mother anyway.

"What is it?" she asked blandly, not bothering to elaborate. She saw Arella hesitate, as though she were about to deny there being anything wrong at all, and then think better of it.

"Be careful, Raven," she beseeched and Raven quirked an eyebrow. It hadn't been entirely what she was expecting.

"I'll be fine," she responded after a moment. "I'm not worried, not really. I just need to figure everything out," she explained. Then, catching Arella giving her a sceptical look, asked, "What?"

Arella smiled. "It's good to see you optimistic," she said simply, baffling Raven. She certainly didn't _feel_ optimistic, no matter _what_ she sounded like.

"Uh, right," she murmured, caught off guard and unsure of how to respond. "I need to go." And, backing out onto the balcony she launched herself into the air before Arella had fully crossed over the threshold.

Raven gathered her power to her then, pulling the night's shadow around her as she turned away from a waving Arella to face the sky above. Then, with a flash, she vanished, tunnelling herself back through the veil of space-time, feeling the ease of returning to earth in contrast to the difficulty and force required to get to Azarath.

Then, abruptly, Raven felt herself fall. It was impossible. She was suspended by her magic, in a place without physical dimension. Yet she fell all the same, losing all control of herself as she tried to fight the force pulling her down.

Fear overtook her when her powers didn't lash out at her loss of control. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong and Raven hadn't a clue of what it was. She felt blind. There was a damper on her powers, a restraint stopping her from sensing anything at all , and between that and the utter blackness of the passageway around her, Raven had no sense of anything whatsoever.

As she continued to fall, certain she'd pulled her knees to her chest in desperation but not really sure at all, Raven only knew fear.

* * *

Another attack on Diagon Alley came early in the morning, three days before Christmas. There had been no deaths, few injuries, and only destruction to a single shop in the Alley, one right on the border between the brightness of Diagon and the drabness of Knockturn Alley, its nearest neighbour. Last Harry had heard, the shopkeeper - who, along with his wife and older-than-Hogwarts-age son, had been the only injuries - had reported nothing missing, but with the circumstances as suspect as they were, no one (in the Order, at least) was inclined to believe him.

It didn't seem to matter largely anyway, though, since the Ministry refused to act without information or death. Mad-Eye, at least, had been outspoken about their need to investigate. He'd so far been loud enough that even Harry, Hermione and Ron, kept in the upper levels of Grimmauld Place by Molly Weasley, had been unable to avoid hearing him.

"Nothing missing…" Hermione murmured, looking at a hastily released issue of the _Evening Prophet_ featuring the morning's attack. "How could there be nothing missing, if their target was so specific?" she demanded, sounding as though it had been frustrating her for some time. Harry shrugged, too busy looking at the moving photograph on the front page, trying to make out all of the faces in it. There was something familiar about that man in the upper right…

"Memory Charm?" Ron suggested. "Make him forget he'd ever carried whatever it was?"

"_And_ forget about seeing whoever cast the spell, without forgetting about the robbery altogether? Do you have any idea how difficult that is, Ron?" Hermione demanded. Ron shrugged.

"Makes sense, doesn't it? There was a duel, they all got hurt, the Death Eaters grabbed what they came for, Obliviated them and left!"

Hermione made a frustrated noise at the explanation. "And I suppose Voldemort _himself_ was there to cast a spell that complicated, was he?"

Harry looked up fro the picture to see that Hermione was red, and Ron pale with the thought of Voldemort in Diagon Alley. "Hey," he prompted in the silence following Hermione's statement. "D'you think this looks like Malfoy?" He positioned one finger near the person he'd been watching in the photograph.

Hermione turned her frustrated look toward Harry. "You. Are. _Obsessed_. Harry," she scolded, pulling the paper toward her. She squinted at the figure in the corner of the page and shook her head. "No. I don't think it looks like Malfoy. What would _Malfoy_ be doing out of his comfortable bed in his warm manor at 6:30 in the morning, in a snow bank in the middle of Diagon Alley? Honestly, the two of you…"

"I dunno, Hermione," Ron said, peering over her shoulder. "It _could_ be Malfoy. Maybe Mummy and Daddy pulled him out of school to run early morning errands for You-Know-Who."

Hermione's frustrated expression turned exasperated as she breathed, "I doubt it," out in a huff.

"You doubted he was a Death Eater last year, too," Harry pointed out. Hermione still looked exasperated when she shrugged to concede the point.

"So, what do you think they wanted?" Ron asked after a moment, when it was clear Hermione probably wasn't going to try and argue any further.

Returning their attention to the paper at the same time, Harry and Hermione barely avoided banging their heads together. Harry let out a laugh and pushed the article toward Hermione as she started giggling, willing to trust his friend's power of observation over his own.

"You know, it's weird," Hermione murmured as her eyes scanned the page. "I don't remember ever even _seeing_ this shop before."

"That's 'cause Old Man Kinnyl and his wife don't deal in anything you'd ever _need_, Hermione," a familiar voice said from the doorway. The trio looked up to see the Weasley twins standing there, George slightly behind Fred, both looking mischievous (and warm) in their lined dragon skin jackets.

"And I suppose _you_ know what a Death Eater would want there?" Ron demanded of Fred, the twin who had spoken.

"No," said Fred, giving his brother a look of disdain. "But I know that if you don't want to go down into Knockturn, Kinnyl's shop is the place to go."

Hermione looked horrified when Harry glanced at her, but he was more intrigued than shocked someone might sell dark arts stuff in Diagon Alley. "Why set up in Diagon then?" he asked. "Wouldn't business be _better_ in Knockturn?"

"Nah," George replied. "'Specially not now. People barely want to go into Diagon; think they'll be attacked, so are they really going to go into Knockturn? In the _best _of times it's seen as having dark wizards coming out of the walls."

"Which it does," Fred amended on the tail of his brother's explanation. "But now they're in power. Kinnyl's Eclectics is the place to go for under the counter stuff now, but the family's not dark, Hermione. I can read that look."

Hermione went red, but Harry pounced on it. "But what sort of stuff would he have that no one else would?" he asked. "If it's just stuff that could be found in Knockturn Alley, why not get it from a shop there? No one would even care, stolen or not."

As one, the twins shrugged. "We're not Death Eaters, mate," George replied. "Maybe Kinnyl had something he shouldn't have. Just because the family's not _dark_ doesn't mean they're not a bit grey. Maybe he didn't know what he had."

"Maybe we're looking in the wrong place," Harry said, his eyes back on the photograph in the paper. "Voldemort's not all we're dealing with now, right? So maybe this has less to do with Voldemort and more to do with Trigon."

"Death Eaters are Death Eaters, mate," Ron replied. He sounded a bit faint and separate from the conversation, as though he'd rather not consider the possible layers of the problem. "Does it really matter who's ordering them around?"

"Doesn't it?" Harry countered. "Voldemort wants to wipe out Muggles and Muggleborns, but what does Trigon want? The same things don't interest him, and he's _way_ more powerful than Voldemort. That's why the Order brought in Raven and Professor Seraphlin. They _know_ they can't deal with it themselves, and they're hoping someone else can."

"_You_ have spent far too much time with Raven," Hermione opined. Harry raised an eyebrow, quite willing to ignore the accusation because he certainly didn't need to get into that argument _again_ with her. Fred and George, though, looked interested.

"McGonagall know you're buddy-buddy with her?" George asked. He looked so casual that Harry knew he _had_ to be up to something.

Not really seeing how it could matter, Harry responded, "No idea, why?"

The twins looked at each other, apparently trying to decide whether or not they should say anything.

"McGonagall's not… _happy_ with Raven," Fred said at length.

"She'd had a lot to say about her in Order meetings."

"Uncooperative, apparently."

"Not that you can blame her, I mean, McGonagall's come out and said she doesn't want to share too much information with Raven."

"Not sure that I would either—"

"—but if you're going to ask someone for help…"

"Sharing information's kind of important."

Too used to the twins finishing each other's sentences and unwilling to risk whiplash looking back and forth between them, it was only at their final, in tandem, line that Harry really refocused on them. The rest of their speech he spent trying to work out how much information Raven and McGonagall could possibly be keeping from one another, and whether the information _Raven_ was holding back could be essential.

"That she took off back to the United States without _any warning _at all isn't any help either, I'm sure," Hermione said.

"Better we don't harm your sensitive ears by repeating what was said about _that_," George said with a grin. "Not by McGonagall, of course, but Mad-Eye and some of the other members of the Order aren't as proper."

"They didn't know she was leaving either?" Hermione asked, sounding horrified even though Harry was sure she'd fully expected it. _Known_ it, for that matter.

"Nah, came outta no where from the way she tells it. She was livid. Kinda feel sorry for this Raven girl when school resumes. That look on McGonagall's face is never a good thing."

Harry, who could guess well enough which look Fred was referring to, concurred.

"She's coming back," Harry asserted. When everyone in the room turned to look at him, Harry could only stiffen his jaw stubbornly. They looked doubtful. He didn't blame them.

"Dunno, mate," Fred said, sounding a bit cautious in the face of Harry's defence of Raven. "McGonagall's not so sure. You ask me, she doesn't want to deal with Trigon. Scared, I bet. I know I am."

George glanced at his twin and nodded, and Harry looked around the room to see Ron and Hermione seemed to be of the same mind. Frightened. They all were.

"She'll be back," Harry repeated. "And she'll deal with Trigon. She's strong, and determined."

* * *

Raven didn't know _when_ she'd lost consciousness, but when she awoke to find her hands bound and mouth covered with no memory of them having gotten that way, there was no doubt she had. It didn't surprise her. The compression and the sheer loss of her control had been enough when she'd been conscious to make her wish she were numb to it. That she'd lost the capability for sensation and thought soon after was more of a relief than a worry, no matter where she'd ended up.

It meant, of course, that figuring out where she was now had to be top priority. She couldn't use her powers, not with her hands bound and mouth covered, not unless she worked herself in enough of a panic or rage that they broke free from her control - and that would be of no use anyway. For that matter, she couldn't even really use her hands to push herself up into a better position to look around in. It bothered Raven that she was going to have to rely almost entirely on her hearing, and on the little bit she might be able to sense with her powers if someone was nearby, but regardless she knew she had to deal with it.

"Hours have passed, how strong can this… _child_ be if she hasn't even awakened by now?" came a man's voice. It had to be close, maybe even right outside of the door - if she could figure out where the door _was_; it was almost too dark to tell - and it wasn't familiar. Nor did the words give her any sense as to who her captors could be.

That there existed in her mind more than one possibility as to who the faction could be told her more than anything else she was in far, far too deep. What made it possibly worse, was the knowledge that she had to see it through to the end no matter what happened. Raven didn't know, honestly, if she had that much strength, and she very nearly dreaded having to find out.

Fear didn't fill her now though. She had more important things to worry about and to focus upon, and despite her fairly helpless position, she knew she still had skills she could use to her advantage. Once she figured out just _who_ was behind this, she would have even more at her disposal.

"You can underestimate her if you like," another voice finally returned, jerking Raven to attention. _Dracona_. Though she'd expected it - almost _assumed_ her to be the culprit, for that matter - the shock still hit Raven strongly enough to set her back, forcing her emotions away and bringing her control to the front. No one else could have pulled her from the protected path between this dimension and Azarath. Even Trigon didn't have such an ability. And worst of all, was that Dracona had known just when Raven had entered, as though she'd been watching the channels.

Raven had known, from the moment she realised just what Dracona was, that it made her a more dangerous opponent than probably anything else that Raven was facing right now. Trigon could wipe her from existence in an instant if he wanted to, he just didn't because although she was barely within his notice, she _was_ the only one of his offspring to ever survive to adulthood.

Dracona, though, was a completely different kind of enemy to have. Dracona wanted to use her, and from what Raven saw, she might just have enough power to do it. If Raven knew _why_ Dracona had captured her, and what she hoped to accomplish by it, she might have a bit of an advantage… But there was nothing. Nothing, unless Dracona still thought Raven could give her some influence with Trigon… but she didn't think that was possible. It was a stupid thought. An absolutely idiotic thought.

"I'll make the judgement for myself once I've seen her," the man's voice responded. It was a low, strange voice with enough indifference in it that Raven had to wonder whether the indifference was affected or not. She recognised the tone. She used it herself.

"As you will," Dracona said offhandedly. The door swing in on its hinges and Raven stared forward at the doorway and into the light flooding in, blinking rapidly to try and stop her eyes from watering at the sudden brightness. A headache began to spread outward from her right temple, no doubt a result of light sensitivity left over from being unconscious, and Raven fought the instinct to close her eyes protectively in order to give the two standing on the threshold an inquisitive glance.

Dracona looked the same, standing there in her violet fringed black cloak, red hair streaming down her shoulders, pale eyes almost glowing as they looked into the dark room. It was the man, though, that drew Raven's eye. He looked vaguely familiar, and as she tried to place his appearance - only slightly taller than Dracona was, swathed entirely in black except for his face and hands and with black hair hanging limply around his face - Raven realised _why_ she felt as though she had seen him before.

It wasn't his appearance that she could place, because she'd only been in spirit form at the time and, under attack, hadn't been paying much attention. His _magic_ though, his aura and the power pouring off of him, _those_ she would recognise anywhere. This man had been hiding in the Forbidden Forest. She'd briefly fought with him. But who was he, and why was he now with Dracona?

* * *

_Author's Corner_

Lots happened in this chapter! Lots happening in the story now, for that matter. Everything's related, somehow, I promise. In fact, I even have most of an idea of how everything's related so I'm not just stringing you all along for fun.

I did end this one with a cliff-hanger though. I apologise. But hey, a weekend release for once! And I hope you enjoyed the twins. They came out of no where, but they were so much fun to write that I hope they show up in a later chapter.

* * *

_Completed March 12/2010_


	21. Ensnared

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Titans, nor do I own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the two. Teen Titans is © of DC Comics, Harry Potter is © of J.K. Rowling, and Warner Brothers holds © over both of them.

**Author's Warning:** This is a crossover fic. :Watches people close the window.: Ahem. Those of you who do not like crossovers may leave now. The rest of you, I invite to continue on…

**Summary:** Trigon has returned, and Voldemort has joined him as a minion. Drawn by strange dreams, Raven must involve herself in the problems of others, including one Harry Potter, who is once again being plagued by strange nightmares. This year at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends are going to be pitted against their most difficult task yet. Destroying a force that even the Dark Lord himself fears won't be easy…

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Demon's Wrath, or; Year Seven and Negative One-Fourth**

_Chapter 21 - Ensnared  
_

Raven would have backed further into the room if she'd been able, but she was far enough back and lacked movement and balance enough that she thought an attempt might result in her lying flat on her back and even more defenceless than she was. So instead, she opted not to move at all and to just continue looking Dracona and the strange man over, trying to figure out why they were together, and what it had to do with the man's living in the forest. No matter how hard she tried though, Raven just couldn't seem to equate the two.

She had been sure that the man living in the forest would have something to do with the Order, or Hogwarts itself, or something. She didn't think the castle's wards, strong and strange as they were would allow someone hostile to be living _that close_ to the castle without something being done about it.

Perhaps she'd overestimated, or even misunderstood, it all though. After all, what did Raven _really_ know about the castle? She hadn't been there long enough to learn even all of the rudimentary things a student of seven years should know about it, and she thought just because she'd touched and interacted with the wards, that she knew better than anyone else what might be possible? She was arrogant if she'd deluded herself into thinking such a thing. Horribly arrogant.

She met the man's eyes for a moment, then, gasping beneath her bound mouth, shoulders tense and suddenly shaking, wrenched it away almost immediately. When she looked back at the man, she saw shock in his posture. Raven didn't know what had just happened but… She knew she didn't want to risk it happening again. The man was a wizard, not a demon. Raven was as certain of that as she'd ever been certain of anything before, but that didn't mean he hadn't been granted some sort of powers from Dracona - assuming he was actually working with or for her - and Raven didn't want to risk finding out too late that she had underestimated him.

Raven had fallen far out of her league again, and she didn't quite know how it had happened. What she knew, was that she needed to get her footing back under her, and quickly.

"You're awake this time. Surprising," the man commented. Raven couldn't respond, and indeed chose not to react at all. She wouldn't give Dracona the satisfaction of seeing her feeling a little less than confident. Stubborn, maybe, but if Raven was going to be held here, she was going to be held here with as much control over the situation as she could possibly grasp. She knew that to be very little with her state, but at least she would demonstrate that she wasn't just going to roll over and give up. That would be just as important as anything else that she could do.

"You don't really need to question her, do you, Snape?" Dracona asked, turning to the man. It seemed as though she were trying to draw his attention away from Raven. Strange, but Raven didn't have any complaints. Raven had no real desire to speak with the man, no real wish to do anything but find a way out of wherever she was - back in Britain, she suspected, which would end up problematic later - and since she was quite certain he would _not_ be an ally in that venture… Well, Raven would be happy to see both he and Dracona leave.

"You will find, Ms Seraphlin, that the Dark Lord places trust in very few people, and that none receive his trust entirely. Those he does trust are those closest to him. Suffice to say, you are not one of them," the man stated, stepping into the room. His eyes were on Raven again, leaving her feeling uncomfortable as she kept her own eyes averted, unwilling to meet his gaze again and knowing if she were to actually return her eyes to him that she would be unable to stop herself finding his.

"My account to him was completely accurate, and far more thorough than you have any hope of being without the proper background," was Dracona's response. There was petulance painting her voice, ire in it that alone said she didn't have any control over the situation. Interesting. It made the man - Snape? Why was that name familiar? - more dangerous.

"I will allow the Dark Lord to make what he will of the information I bring to him," Snape replied. A brief surge of… something, shot through Raven and she squished it down before it could try to manifest itself as a full fledged emotion. Who _was_ this man?

"As you wish," Dracona deadpanned, turning on her heel with a swish of her cloak.

She was almost out of sight when the man held up a hand and called, voice barely audible, "Another moment of your time to undo this restraining spell, Ms Seraphlin."

Dracona reappeared in the doorway, looking irritated and a little smug as she settled her cloak about herself. "Not wise," she murmured.

"I didn't ask for your opinion," Snape said. He drew his wand and pointed it at Raven then, and Raven, having seen this man duel before and almost been injured by him, took the subtle suggestion to heart.

A snicker from Dracona, a wave of her hand and a burst of violet light returned Raven's power of speech to her, and with it, the awareness that she had at least a little more control over the situation. She probably wouldn't be able to escape without the use of her hands, might not even be able to get through her mantra in time to have a chance at all, but the possibility was still there. That alone made Raven feel more secure.

"If you need me, shout," Dracona said, disappearing quickly enough on the heels of the statement to make Raven wonder even more than she already was.

"Who are you?" Raven demanded, looking at the man and recovering enough from the prison her own thoughts were trying to form around her enough to realise this was likely her _only_ chance of getting any sort of information at all.

The dark look the man gave her was enough to tell her she wasn't going to be getting any information _she_ might want out of him. At least she had his name. That might be enough to tell her something about him, once she was out of here and able to look it up. Working out why she was here, though, and what Dracona was up to, had to be her priority right now if she wanted to escape from here alive.

The man closed the door behind him then, sealing it with a jab of his wand (and presumably an unspoken spell). Then he turned back toward Raven and simply stared at her through the dim lighting, making her feel distinctly uncomfortable but utterly unwilling to speak again to break the silence. She would not ask where she was. That she'd asked who _he_ was, and been denied the answer, was more than enough. If any further questions would only go unanswered, then she thought it best to not ask them at all. The man - Snape - would let her know what he wanted, and why she was there, in his own time. Trying to rush it would get her nowhere.

"I see nothing special about you," Snape said at length. Raven raised an eyebrow. That, more than anything, told her he didn't know she'd seen him in the forest. If she knew something she wasn't supposed to know - because Raven was _quite _certain no one but those it directly concerned were supposed to know about the warding hidden in the forest - then she might be able to use that here.

"Except…" The word was a soft murmur, spoken around a finger that was slowly outlining the man's lips, a contemplative gesture Raven wasn't overly fond of. She wished she dared look up and meet his eyes, certain they would tell her more about this man, but unwilling to feel that strange sensation she'd felt before. This man had power, there was no doubt about that.

"Except what?" Raven challenged after another long moment. He was trying to unnerve her, and that it was almost working told Raven far more than she needed to know. If this man had been on his own - disregarding that he would have been unable to get his hands on her - she wouldn't have had a problem dealing with him. But he was working with Dracona, who she was more than wary of right now, and there had been references made to Voldemort. She could puzzle it all out later. It would _have_ to wait until later.

"Look at me," Snape commanded. Raven didn't raise her eyes, but caught the motion of his wand out of her peripheral vision and felt power flare up around her, the gem upon her forehead flashing, her aura briefly turning solid before her.

"Interesting," the man murmured, even as Raven realised he hadn't cast any spell at all. A threat to see her power manifest, that had been all it was, and instinctively - subconsciously - she'd reacted to it. Or, more accurately, her handicapped state caused her to panic and the rise of emotion had protected her.

"Seraphlin wasn't lying then, your magic is the same as hers."

"Similar," Raven corrected, irritated by the comparison.

"I see no difference," came the response as the man began to pace around her in the small room, the hem of his robe dragging across her spread out cloak. Raven, who couldn't have tugged it back around her even if she wanted to, simply watched, trying not to look up, her mind working furiously to understand what was going on.

"You've only seen my power manifest once," Raven pointed out, unsure why she felt the need to defend the difference, and even more unsure that the difference was large enough to bother defending.

She again resisted looking up at the feel of his gaze on the top of her head, and when he didn't speak again for a long moment, resisted shifting uncomfortably where she sat. She felt as though he was weighing her, trying to gauge how much of a threat she posed, and she didn't fully understand it. Who _was_ this man?

"I should like to know where you learnt your Occlumency skill," Snape said finally, ignoring Raven's comment as though he hadn't heard it.

"It isn't Occlumency," she said. Harry had mentioned he'd been taught Occlumency before - or that someone had _tried_ to teach it to him, at least. That had been one of the former teachers at the school, she was sure, since she knew he didn't have the lessons anymore… at least none beyond what her own lessons to him offered.

Then it hit her. She knew where she'd heard Snape's name before. In the very halls of Hogwarts, when people discussed the death of the former Headmaster. He'd been a Professor, and was a high profile Death Eater, she was sure. But _why_ was Dracona involved with Voldemort and with this Death Eater, and what did they want with _her_?

"No? Do explain further," Snape's voice was soft, and Raven nearly shivered. It was a voice heavy with threat, and though she was almost certain his intent was only to scare her into talking, and that he wasn't actually going to do anything to her, she wasn't positive, couldn't be positive. _Why_ was Hogwarts castle allowing this man to reside so close to it?

"It's a natural defence," she stated, unwilling to give out any more information than necessary.

Snape stopped his pacing in front of her and, though she could tell he was looking down, he was standing so closely there was little point to her trying to meet his eyes, had she even wanted to.

"Natural," he stated, the word carrying enough doubt to rouse a feeling of defensiveness in Raven. She glowered at the ground near his feet.

"Look at me," he commanded again, stepping back slightly. She looked up this time, solidifying her mental defences to ready for whatever he would do with his Legilimency skill when she met his eyes, surprised when she didn't feel anything at all pushing against the barriers.

"The Dark Lord has instructed me to return you to Hogwarts once I have gained information to corroborate or dismiss the information Dracona Seraphlin has delivered. The task can be easy, or difficult. It is entirely up to you how we proceed."

Raven's gaze hardened into a glare, "Why should I help you?"

"I should think you would rather not extend your residence in this room," was the dry response. The offhand delivery told her he didn't care either way, and Raven knew, _knew_, she shouldn't bait him. This man said Voldemort trusted him. She had no illusions as to how he might have gained that trust.

The clasp on Raven's cloak started flashing then, the red light intermittently casting angry shadows through the room. It drew Raven's eyes downward again, bringing forth the realisation that the team now knew she was missing. They had to, the alert was almost certainly for her absence.

"I don't help criminals," Raven said after a long moment, breaking her gaze from where it had become transfixed on the flashing clasp. There was nothing she could do to help them, worrying about it now would get her nowhere.

It felt as though the room went colder as Raven suddenly became aware of the power the man held and the plummeting of his mood crashed against her senses. She'd been wrong when the door first opened. His power was natural, and the same Wizard type she'd been encountering since she arrived in Britain. It just seemed to be layered more, almost as though he had more magic than most people, and he could do more things with it - that much was clear, if he was a Legilimens.

"_Legilimens_," Snape growled not even a moment after she'd thought it. Raven barely threw more power behind her mental shield in time, and couldn't wrench her eyes away from the sight of his gaze boring into hers. She'd read the theory behind this, could do a version of it herself, and had heard enough of it from Harry, but nothing could have prepared her for such a direct assault on her mind.

"Azarath, Metrion… Zinthos!" she ground out through teeth grit tightly together against the onslaught. Blindly, without the focus or guide of her hands, Raven threw the build-up of power forward, emptying her body of energy built up from the undercurrent of fear that had run through her since she awoke here.

The dark power rushed forward, stopping suddenly when it met a flash of light and Raven let it break off before it could crash back toward her, not wanting to have to swallow the power back down when she was bursting with it already. Snape's shield fell a moment later and she could see his reanalysis of her flickering in his eyes.

"Don't think you can fight me," she ground out. "You have no idea what I am."

Silent, he nodded, then turned on his heel and left, the door to the cell slamming closed, lock clicking, behind him.

* * *

"How's the scan coming?" Robin asked, returning to the main room of the Tower after a solo workout session. The look on Cyborg's face told him all he needed to know, but, turning to the refrigerator after giving the large computer screen a cursory glance, Robin listened anyway.

"I've got _nothing, _Robin. She'd not in the city, and far as I can tell, not back in Europe either. 'Less, of course, the magic's getting in the way of my tech. It's not like I tried to trace her before, you know?"

Robin shook his head. "Her T. Communicator worked before. It doesn't now. I don't think she's back at the school."

"Then where could our friend be?" Starfire trilled, swooping in a distressed arc near the ceiling of the room. "It is not like friend Raven to leave without informing us!"

That wasn't strictly true, but Robin didn't point it out. He instead looked over his team carefully, thinking about the few days Raven had been home and trying to connect it all with her sudden disappearance.

"Maybe her communicator's broken. You wouldn't get a trace then, right?" Terra asked.

"Right… But the clasp of her cloak's got a tracking device in it too," Cyborg replied, looking a bit uneasy. "And I can't find _that_ either." The half-robot man paused and turned to look at him. "I'm worried about her, Robin."

He nodded, "We all are, but without even an inkling of where she's gone, there isn't much we can do." It pained him to say it, knowing the announcement wouldn't make him popular, and he braced himself for his team's reaction.

"How can you even _say_ that!?" "_Robin!_ She is our _friend!_" Beast Boy and Starfire exclaimed at once.

"Yeah, man. No matter what it looks like, she wouldn't've run off on us without saying _something_."

"I mean, sure Raven's a little creepy, and mean and reads too much and has no sense of humour—"

"And is a lot stand-offish," Terra chimed in.

"—Yeah, that too, but all that doesn't mean we can just not _look_ for her!" Beast Boy argued.

Robin closed his eyes briefly at the explosion of protests and took a deep breath.

"Raven is _not_ creepy and mean! She is our friend!"

"Sure, Star, but she's still creepy, and she never laughs at my jokes!"

"That's cause you're just not funny, B."

'Well I agree with B.B. Raven has _no_ sense of humour. C'mon, Cyborg, when's the last time she—"

"ENOUGH!" Robin shouted over the din. They turned to look at him, and though Robin knew it was just his imagination turning their slightly shocked expressions into accusatory glares, he still felt unnerved.

"I didn't say we were going to stop looking for her. I just said there isn't much we can do without knowing where she went. Raven went _somewhere_.It doesn't matter if it was on purpose, or by accident, or if something happened when she got there or _while_ she was there. She still went _somewhere_, and until we figure out _where_ that is, there's not much we can do."

The team stared at him as he spoke and Robin gave them what he hoped was a significantly powerful 'leader-ish' look, hoping to drive home the decision. He had never felt less like a leader. He, too, felt as though they were abandoning Raven by listening to him, but what other choice was he left? By no means did he intend on ceasing the search for Raven, but if she'd gone somewhere, and without leaving any sort of indication as to where she'd gone, what was he supposed to do?

"I'm going to go check Raven's room again for hints," he said into the silence that had fallen. The room remained quiet as he left and though Robin refused to look around, he knew the four of the would be staring after him. He also had no doubt about the conversation that would spring up when he left.

It didn't matter. He knew _they_ knew he wasn't - and would never - abandoning Raven to her fate. He would continue looking for her until he found her. It wasn't the search that was the source of Robin's frustration. No, the entire situation frustrated him, all the way back to its beginnings in the summer. Too much was happening, and it had reached a point where Robin wasn't even sure who their target needed to be anymore.

He didn't think he'd ever regretted a decision more than he regretted his decision to allow Raven to leave and pursue the threat in Britain.

* * *

Something about the book on the bed unnerved him, and he wasn't entirely sure what it is or what reason he'd have to be nervous about it. After all, as far as he could tell it was just a normal book - and most books posed no threat at all. He thought, perhaps, it was the language the book was in. Nothing he recognised - it certainly wasn't Latin, though the characters looked Romanic - but something he thought might be an early form of English. He would have liked to cross-reference the language against books in the library, but knew he didn't have that chance.

Maybe the book unnerved him because he didn't know where it had come from. Vaguely, he thought he remembered recovering it, but the thought had only come to mind when he'd seen the _Evening Prophet_ and heard his father talking about the attack. There had been mention of a curiosity concerning the events, and a confusion as to who had orchestrated them.

His father had been worried that his lack of knowledge had come about due to slipping further from favour without realising it. He wasn't so sure. He _knew_ there was something his father was missing, if only he could think it through coherently enough to isolate _what_ that was.

But he couldn't. And while he knew it had something to do with the book, and less to do with the Dark Lord than his father and the rest of the Wizarding World thought it did, he had no way of proving it. Nor did he think he even retained the ability to _speak_ of it, if he did.

Lifting the strange book into his arms, his nerves concerning it fully renewed when he touched it again, Draco Malfoy left his room. Something inside of him knew his destination perfectly, but Draco wasn't conscious of it. He was only conscious of the book in his arms and the power radiating from it, strange yet he knew it was familiar for _some_ reason, and the quiet tread of his feet on the carpet runner.

He had to deliver the book. There was no need to worry about what was in it, or even where it had come from, any longer. _Someone_ had that information, and it didn't concern him.

* * *

_Author's Note_

A short AND delayed chapter? I apologise, that's really all I can do. Well, that and start immediately working on the next one. Alerts for it will hopefully come flying into your inboxes at the end of this month, or in early May. (But we all know that my ETAs are something to be largely ignored, and about as accurate as those offered by file transfers in Windows.)

What happened up there between Snape and Raven? You'll find out soon!

* * *

_Completed: April 15/2010_


	22. Voldemort

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Titans, nor do I own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the two. Teen Titans is © of DC Comics, Harry Potter is © of J.K. Rowling, and Warner Brothers holds © over both of them.

**Author's Warning:** This is a crossover fic. :Watches people close the window.: Ahem. Those of you who do not like crossovers may leave now. The rest of you, I invite to continue on…

**Summary:** Trigon has returned, and Voldemort has joined him as a minion. Drawn by strange dreams, Raven must involve herself in the problems of others, including one Harry Potter, who is once again being plagued by strange nightmares. This year at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends are going to be pitted against their most difficult task yet. Destroying a force that even the Dark Lord himself fears won't be easy…

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Demon's Wrath, or; Year Seven and Negative One-Fourth**

_Chapter 22 - Voldemort_

If there was one thing being trapped in the cell offered Raven, it was the chance to meditate. Despite being trapped, on edge and wanting nothing more than to see if she could blast a hole in the wall - which she couldn't, she'd tried nearly everything she could think of - Raven was still able to find her centre enough to relax and focus on keeping her emotions at bay. It wasn't her ideal choice of what to do with the situation, but as it remained the only option at hand… well, it was better than fretting. Raven didn't fret well.

She didn't think too much time had passed since she awoke here and had her confrontation with Snape. Though nearly impossible to tell with no windows - or very much light at all for that matter as only a single oil lamp was hung in the room to give her something to see by - and no one having come to see her since Snape had stormed out, passage of time meant almost nothing to Raven. She was trapped in a small room, her powers all but bound by Dracona (no doubt still in the building somewhere) and she had absolutely no recourse. Whatever was going to happen still remained very much outside of Raven's control, but she was determined not to let it bother her.

Meditation helped with that. It also helped to control the urge she felt to repeatedly try and contact the team back home. She could only imagine what was going through _their_ minds, and whenever he thought about it she felt particularly irresponsible for not informing anyone of where she had gone.

But the Book of Azar had been left out in the open; surely _someone_ would figure it out.

Raven sighed and expelled a long breath, leaning back against the wall and closing her eyes as she did so. Idly, she cast out her thoughts and tried to find the connection she had to Harry, then when that failed searched for the link she'd formed with Robin the day she entered into his mind.

Nothing.

Not surprising, really, since after Snape left energy walls more powerful than she'd ever felt had locked into place around her cell, stopping not only her power from escaping and hooking onto anyone else, but also all electronic communication, as far as she could tell. Hands still bound - irritatingly enough - Raven had been unable to reach her T. Communicator where it was hooked into the back of her belt, but her brooch had only flared the one time and had been lifeless since. It left Raven in a strange state of feeling nearly helpless.

She _knew_ she wasn't helpless, not in the least, but as it was she was completely on her own and _that_ was something she hadn't entirely gotten used to yet. More than being on her own, she was left to only what her physical training and wits would allow her. Raven had little idea as to why she'd been brought here, but she suspected it had more to do with Dracona, and whatever it was the woman wanted, than with Voldemort or Snape.

She knew from her brief conversation with Dracona just weeks ago that the woman wanted her for leverage against Trigon. _What_ Dracona could possibly want with Trigon, Raven couldn't even fathom, but she remained convinced that whatever it was it had nothing to do with whatever Trigon wanted with Britain. She had almost started to believe she'd inadvertently stumbled into the middle of a Lyftcynn power play, headed by Dracona. It didn't make very much sense to her, though, were that the case. She simply couldn't comprehend what use Voldemort or the British wizards in general could be in such an instance.

Raven knew, _knew_, that casting around her thoughts for an answer like this wouldn't get her anywhere. She was missing pieces of the puzzle. So many pieces that comprehension lay out of reach, that all meaning was lost - assuming meaning or motive existed at all. All Raven could do was sit and wait for more pieces of the puzzle to fall into her lap - and _not_ to be rescued like a damsel in distress (a thought that kept darting around at the edge of her consciousness).

So, sit and wait she did.

* * *

Raven didn't have to wait long before footsteps announced the return of one of her captors. Summoning the most unattached, unconcerned look she could, Raven faced the door as it opened.

Snape stood in the doorway, his expression as indeterminable as her own, a mask hiding whatever was behind it. She could feel him looking her over in the darkness and squashed down the urge to snap something at him. She'd surprised him before. She didn't need to make herself out to be a threat now, or worse, undermine what she'd already accomplished.

"I wonder," Snape drawled after his long moment studying her had passed. "What your thoughts are about why you're here."

Raven couldn't respond with anything more than an exasperated look, which she held until it became clear he was waiting for a response to his statement.

"Leverage," she said finally, dully. She knew why Dracona'd dragged her here; just as well as she knew it was a fruitless exercise.

Snape was studying her again.

"Perceptive," he said, a snide tone to his voice.

"There's no other reason for you to be interested in me."

Snape stayed silent, leaving them simply watching each other again, Raven's impatience building.

"I can think of a few," was Snape's eventual response. Unable to tell if the statement was meant to be cryptic or threatening, both or neither, Raven didn't respond. She didn't want the clarification - it hardly mattered, anyway.

"Leverage, then. You plans are pointless anyway." Raven couldn't read the change in Snape's face that came after she said it, but she couldn't help wondering if she'd surprised him, even just a little bit.

"You flatter yourself to speak as though you have intimate knowledge of the Dark Lord's plans."

"You don't know your colleague very well, do you?" Raven asked, feeling exasperated and knowing the sardonic edge to her voice probably showed that. She didn't think that Dracona was working for Voldemort. She was quite certain, for that matter, that Dracona wasn't working for anyone but herself, and her clan. The Lyftcynn had some stake in this whole thing, some stake that the rest of them were missing, and Raven was absolutely _certain_ it had more of a prominent role than it had so far appeared to.

"You're to come with me."

His lack of response to the accusation didn't escape Raven, but it thrilled her enough to know she'd be getting out of this cell that she refrained from making a comment with the sole purpose of riding him about it. If there was even a chance she could escape here, Raven had to be ready to take it. She _knew_ how fast this man could move. If opportunity for escape appeared, she would have only seconds. Seconds in which a mistake could cost her far more dearly than inaction would have.

Staying silent, though, was in Raven's nature. Keeping quiet as Snape led her through a low-ceilinged hallway neither unnerved her nor gave her any wish to speak at all. She simply observed, feeling around with a spread of power as far from herself as she dared - which wasn't far at all, really. Dracona hadn't returned to seal off her powers again, the wards Raven was currently tracing with just the tips of her consciousness were enough to keep her in all on their own, but she definitely didn't want to give anyone reason to pin her as a flight risk.

So Raven mostly kept her power to herself, unsurprised when they reached their destination - a room up a rickety staircase and into a beautiful, rickety and well-kept room that seemed completely at odds with what was beneath its floorboards - without crossing through the place where the wards ended. There was no doubt Dracona, at least, knew what she was doing.

The wards weren't just flavoured like Dracona, either. There was something else beyond them that she could feel; a faint shadow of something that was completely alien to her. Raven could only assume they were wards of some sort on the house - or property - itself. None so great as the ones she was used to feeling around Hogwarts, at least as far as she could tell, but wards all the same and Raven's mind couldn't help but stick onto wondering what purpose they might serve.

She still didn't know nearly enough about this world and its wizard magic, and at this point that fact irked her to no end. She _needed_ to know more. But for now she was going to have to eke by on what she already knew. She could build upon her knowledge later - would _have_ to build upon her knowledge later.

Raven allowed her focus to shift away from the wards when Snape lowered his wand from where he'd been holding it, hovering near her ear. There were people standing in the room, right up against the wall, as far away as possible and Raven couldn't tell if it was by choice or out of fear, or perhaps reverence. Directly in front of her stood a tall, hooded figure, flanked by a woman Raven recognised from the papers as being Bellatrix Lestrange on one side, and Dracona on the other.

It made for an interesting picture. It also shed light on just how much influence Dracona had gained here; because Raven was sure where she stood now was a place of honour. Dracona in a place of honour meant she was being taken more seriously, and her suggestions being given more weight, than Raven would have hoped. It wasn't a good sign at all, especially since Dracona still had a - as far as Raven was aware, anyway - unsuspected and respected position within the Order.

The man with the hood raised long, white hands and lowered it from around his face. Raven blinked, taking in the bare head, tightly stretched skin and sunken red eyes the cowl had been hiding. The currents of emotion lapping at her from the people surrounding them told her she was supposed to be looking more impressed - or perhaps frightened - than she was, but Raven saw nothing more than a man with a small, faint and greyed aura, too much power, and (though it took her a moment to realise it) few emotions at all. Whatever was coming from his was strangled and garbled, confused, as though he too were bewildered - and angered - by Raven's lack of response.

_This_ was Voldemort? Even without having heard anything of him, what she felt from him now would have told her well enough that he was some sort of tyrant. Some sort of _inhuman_ tyrant. She couldn't place what it was that was wrong with him, but it was definitely something… Something missing, perhaps, beyond the normal spectrum of human emotion.

Raven knew this man was dangerous by his reputation, and the reputation of his followers. She knew she was essentially helpless before him now, without her magic to help her. All the same, the only thing about Voldemort that she found inspiring any sense of fear in her was Trigon's interest in him. Perhaps a foolish, arrogant way of thinking, but certainly not one to be corrected simply based on her situation. Trigon was more frightening than this man could ever hope to be.

Raven continued watching Voldemort as coolly as she could, her eyes locked on him and not straying to Dracona, as much as she _wanted_ to watch Dracona's reactions. They would be far more interesting than Voldemort's, she was sure, but she also wasn't willing to give anyone here the satisfaction of her looking as though she were afraid – in any way – of Voldemort.

"What do you want?" she demanded into the silence that followed Voldemort lowering his hood. Voldemort's lips contorted in a mockery of a smile.

"Be sssilent until you're spoken to," Voldemort responded, and Raven gained the immediate impression that the drawn out hisses accenting his 's'es weren't wholly intentional.

Fortifying herself, Raven took a long breath and forced herself to stand silently. What had been easy while she was being led up here wasn't nearly as simple now. Raven wanted answers. She wanted to know just what Voldemort expected to accomplish by having her here, and from his own lips, not Dracona's. She had long ago abused herself of the notion that Dracona was working for anyone other than herself, after all, so whatever _she _might want out of this, there was little doubt that it would be quite differently than what someone who was only thinking in terms of one dimension wanted. Little doubt at all.

"She gave you no trouble then, Ssseverus?"

Snape moved forward at the sound of his name, gliding around Raven and coming to a stop a few feet from Voldemort, where he folded into a low bow.

"None at all, My Lord. As I have already told you, I have found this girl to be of little consequence, and no threat."

Raven's eyes flashed as her pride rose and was quickly swallowed. She didn't know if it would be better to be thought of as a threat, or not, by these people. While she suspected not, the pronouncement still bothered her. She had been _sure_ she had unnerved Snape when they had first met. Had he just been acting? Or was he acting now?

She simply didn't know.

"As you sssay, Ssseverus," Voldemort replied, then waved his hand. At the motion, Snape rose and backed away to take a place in the circle. It didn't escape Raven's attention when his place ended up being next to Dracona, despite Voldemort having resumed his speech.

"I have heard many things about this girl, my friends," Voldemort said, projecting his voice to speak to the room as a whole. "Many _differing_ things and ssso I have brought her before you now. Today we shall see for ourselvesss just what is true, and what isn't."

Voldemort's gaze found Raven again, scanning her up and down, finally raising to make eye contact. Without moving her head, without looking as though she was shrinking away – as difficult as it was – Raven averted her eyes. Her gaze settled on Voldemort's shoulder, peripheral taking in the corner of his mouth when his lips moved up in a smirk.

"Why, I believe we've frightened her," Voldemort said. Refusing to rise to the bait, Raven held her peace. She recalled what had happened when she'd met Snape's eyes, and despite Snape having said she was no threat, Raven wasn't willing to have anything nearing the same reaction with Voldemort. It sounded as though Snape had shrugged the whole incident off. She didn't know that Voldemort would do the same.

Maybe she was being paranoid, and no such thing would happen. Nothing of the sort had happened with anyone else she'd met since arriving in Britain. Except... except for the mess of encounters with Harry before she'd taught him how to control them.

Raven couldn't label what had happened with Snape as being lack of control, though. Despite knowing just how the education system worked here as far as elementary magic was concerned, Raven was sure that the instance with Snape back in the cell hadn't been a hidden talent reacting to Raven's own powers.

It had been something else, something to do with the man's abilities as a Legilimens, she was sure, and Raven, unwilling to risk it happening again, wasn't going to find out if it had been involuntary or not. She certainly wasn't going to find out if Voldemort could do the same. After all, if nothing else, she _did_ know Voldemort was a Legilimens himself. Harry had informed her of _that_ much, and though she'd not thought much of it at the time... well, now she was grateful.

"What are your thoughts, my friends?"

Murmuring from various places around the circle answered him. Raven continued to keep her eyes averted, letting her gaze dart to look at some of the hooded figures around the room. Beyond their stature and build, though, they all looked the same with masks covering their faces, and Raven knew to try and figure out who was who was a futile exercise.

Voldemort moved raised his wand then and Raven's attention shot back forward, just watching as she considered her options.

She didn't have many. She _knew_ almost any motion she could make was likely to bring any number of the Death Eaters in the room down upon her. With no allies here, Raven had few choices, and any moves she did make had to be made with the most extreme caution.

So when Voldemort's wand was fully pointed toward her, his intent clear, Raven stood patient. Everything she had went into standing absolutely still; putting forth an image of fearlessness she didn't feel.

"Look at me, Raven. Or are you too afraid to meet my eyes? Perhaps you're scared of what you'll see there?"

"I know what I'll see in your eyes," Raven replied, but didn't look up to them to see if she was right.

"Do enlighten me." Voldemort's tone was amused, mocking. "I promise; no one here will harm you for speaking your mind. At least, not right now." Quiet laughter came from a few places around the room and Raven tensed, her wariness increasing, fight or flight reflex wound tight as she fought to do neither. There'd been no doubt they meant her harm, but hearing it confirmed put Raven more on edge than she had been.

"I'll see a man so afraid of his own death that he's murdered and tormented others all his adult life, hoping he was removing those who would cause his death, and therefore defeating it."

The room had fallen absolutely silent as Raven spoke. She still didn't look up. She couldn't tell if Voldemort was holding his Death Eaters back from attacking, or if they were too much in shock by her words to do anything at all.

"I'll see the remains of a man who has fragmented so much—"

"_Crucio!"_

Before she realised she was falling, Raven felt her knees impact with the ground, dull amongst the rest of the pain that suddenly filled her body. Fighting with her own pain sensors and the urge to just curl into a ball and rock back and forth until the pain disappeared, Raven tried to throw the spell off. It was more pain than she could have ever imagined – not more pain than she had felt, perhaps, but certainly more than she thought a single spell, a single _word_ could cause.

It was in that moment Raven fully realised just how much power these people had at their disposal; just how much power _Voldemort_ had, even if he was no Trigon.

The spell ended and Raven found she lay on her side, blue cloak pooled around her, clasp shoved to one side as though she'd struggled with it without realising it. Low guffaws came from around the room, joined with the slightly higher chuckle of a woman. These people got off on pain. She knew that. She'd just finished spouting off Voldemort's tactics, yet seemed to have forgotten them herself in the heat of the moment.

She wouldn't forget again.

"The floor's no place for a woman of your standing, my dear. You really should get up." Voldemort's tone was still cruel, still amused, as though he hadn't done anything at all. As though she hadn't been nearly writhing on the floor in pain he'd caused.

Raven rose.

"Now. Look at me," he ordered.

Raven took in a deep breath, pulling back in emotions that were trying to get away. Then she looked, her eyes moving upward across Voldemort's thin, almost lipless mouth, to the flat area where his nose should have been, and then, finally, to his eyes.

She had an impression of red, red irises surrounding a slit of black pupil before she felt as though she were falling again. She knew this feeling, though. Her feet were still rooted to the floor, but something in Voldemort's power was trying to pull her in. The feeling when she'd first met Snape's eyes had been similar. She had no doubt now that linking the two incidents was a talent in Legilimency.

She just wished her shielding and natural defences blocked it better than they were now.

'_It ssseems you were correct after all. Ssseverus.'_

Raven could hear Voldemort speak but, eyes still locked with his, still unable to tear her attention away for whatever reason, she couldn't see the exchange as it happened.

She didn't hear Snape's response, if there was one. In fact, she couldn't hear anything at all but the blood rushing in her ears and the occasional murmur of sound from Voldemort. It was almost as though they were sharing the same mindspace...

And that thought stopped her cold.

Panicked, realising this could, in fact, be the case, Raven threw everything she had into breaking the connection Voldemort had made. Trigon's ability to access her mind was more than enough. She didn't need – wouldn't be able to stand – Voldemort having the same ability.

Raven couldn't move her lips. Trying to speak got her no where, as though she were physically paralysed by the intrusion, only able to think and hope that it would break soon. She couldn't close her eyes, if they were even still open, in order to break the connection that way. Luckily, thankfully, Raven had more than enough training and strength to have more recourse than just that.

'_Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos...!'_

She could only think the words, unable to move her lips to give herself the extra focus of speaking them, but tightening her thoughts and directing herself as much toward where she felt the source of the intrusion was, Raven flung power, inner strength – whatever it was – toward Voldemort anyway.

It would prove Snape wrong. It would prove Voldemort's initial evaluation of her wrong. Raven didn't care. She only knew, now, that she absolutely had to get Voldemort out.

Feeling the buffet of power make no noticeable difference in Voldemort's hold, Raven gathered herself and thought the words again.

And again.

And again, until she felt a shiver of thought, like something slimy and wet, slither down her spine.

'_Thessse abilities...! How could... I was not warned!'_

Then Raven was on her knees, thoughts hers alone, awareness returning, hands still bound behind her, face nearly pressed into the floor. Her vision was narrowed to a tiny corridor, practically blacked out as her head spun with the effort forcing Voldemort out had been.

She didn't want to move. She didn't think she _could_ move, but her hearing, her senses, were all coming back to her.

The room was filled with chaos. She could hear shouts, confused and angry, could feel the floor vibrating as people rushed back and forth, wavering, unsure of how they ought to react, what they needed to do. Her empathy, too, was nearly overloaded with confusion, senses raw from a fight she'd barely realised she'd had. She'd been fighting for her freedom, she slowly came to realised. Voldemort would have possessed her if he could. She would remember it for future encounters.

"Get her out of my sssight!" Raven heard Voldemort shout, the tone almost a shriek.

With the numbness nearly fully receded now, Raven could feel something else in the room. Something almost comfortingly familiar after the uncertainty he'd felt since her capture.

She shouldn't have felt secure with Trigon's presence in the same room.

"Nothing but trouble, I should have known it from the start," a low voice growled near her ear. A rough hand seized Raven's arm and she looked to her side to see it was Snape who grabbed her. "To your feet, before he changes his mind," he ordered.

Raven stumbled as she complied, feeling anger coming in waves off of the man, fear just beneath it, the emotions strong enough that they nearly overwhelmed her own emotions as she felt them. She couldn't imagine what the man might be frightened of. Certainly not her, bound as she was, unless he realised she'd bested his master... and perhaps he did, since she'd bested him as well.

Perhaps of Trigon. If he was wise, that was the source of his fear.

"I will Apparate with you to Hogsmeade. I _trust_ you can find the castle on your own from there." The words, the tone, everything brooked no nonsense as they continued moving forward, Snape practically dragging her along with one hand, his wand held steady in the other.

Raven, still trying to get her wits about her and realigning her thoughts, knew something about that sounded off but couldn't think of what it was.

She said nothing. She was getting out of here and that was her whole concern right now.

Snape led her as far as the hallway, forcing her through the doorway and out of the chaotic room ahead of him. She barely had time to prepare herself before she was encompassed by a crushing feeling, lungs emptied of air as though that could make her smaller to allow the corridor Apparition made in space-time easier to traverse. Her own shadow travel wasn't anywhere near as chokingly uncomfortable.

A blast of snowy, frigid air slapped Raven in the face, her body starting to shiver instantly as sleeping, winter-decked Hogsmeade village appeared around them. Raven felt the binding spell drop from her hands and spun to look at her captor, practically invisible in his black robes in the dark.

"Tell no one but the Headmistress who returned you here," Snape warned. Then, with a 'pop' of the air where he'd been rushing inward, Snape Disapparated, leaving Raven alone in the snow.

* * *

_Author's Corner_

Did I say end of April? I must've really meant end of June. Happy early Canada Day! (And Fourth of July, since I know a lot of my readers are American.)

* * *

_Completed: June 30/2010_


	23. Together

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Titans, nor do I own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the two. Teen Titans is © of DC Comics, Harry Potter is © of J.K. Rowling, and Warner Brothers holds © over both of them.

**Author's Warning:** This is a crossover fic. :Watches people close the window.: Ahem. Those of you who do not like crossovers may leave now. The rest of you, I invite to continue on…

**Summary:** Trigon has returned, and Voldemort has joined him as a minion. Drawn by strange dreams, Raven must involve herself in the problems of others, including one Harry Potter, who is once again being plagued by strange nightmares. This year at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends are going to be pitted against their most difficult task yet. Destroying a force that even the Dark Lord himself fears won't be easy…

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Demon's Wrath, or; Year Seven and Negative One-Fourth**

_Chapter 23 – Together_

When the screaming had started, Draco wanted nothing more that to leave the room, to not have to look at this, to let someone else be in his place because he wanted out.

Raven Roth was a classmate. A Gryffindor, certainly, and not a Pureblood and for both reasons a classmate he didn't want anything to do with, but a classmate all the same. Beyond the obvious – the Dark Mark on his arm, the convenience of his already having been in the school – Draco hadn't been able to see why _he_ had to be the one tasked with trying to attract Roth - and her power – to the Dark Lord. They already had Professor Seraphlin. They already had the Dark Lord's connection to the Demon Lord he'd bargained with.

Draco couldn't see the role he played, but he knew he didn't want to be here now, continuing to play it. Torture just didn't sit well with him – even if it was just a mudblood Gryffindor.

And because he wanted to retreat so badly, because his mind was already trying to flee the scene, something gave him the opportunity to. Trigon pushed his way forward, into the blond man's mind, as he'd done before.

Draco hadn't even been aware enough to hear when the screaming stopped, and the ruckus that started after completely passed him by, despite his being in the centre of it.

* * *

"Why's it feel like she's been gone _forever_, when she _was_ just gone forever, but it's only been like a day this time?" Beast Boy asked. The mood in the room was sombre; had _been_ sombre since Cyborg first announced that he just couldn't seem to find Raven. It was disheartening, and Beast Boy was right – time seemed to be stretching on forever.

"Because we don't know where she is, and it's worrying all of us," Robin said finally. His attention was on the large screen where Cyborg's scans were rung, but he still saw, from the corner of his eye, both Starfire and Terra turn to look at him.

"I'm going to find her, man," Cyborg said. Robin couldn't tell who the comment was directed at; wasn't sure Cyborg himself even knew. "There ain't nothing that can beat my tech." But he didn't sound as convinced as he had before. That was discouraging, too.

"Looks like something has," Terra murmured.

Both Cyborg and Starfire turned on her. "You think that's gonna make me just give up?" "Do _not_ cast doubts upon our friend! It will not help us to find Raven!"

Terra raised her hands defensively. "Okay, okay. Jeez, sorry. I was just pointing it out."

Robin let them have at it. "If anyone needs me, I'll be in the weight room," he called, unsure if anyone was actually paying attention, as he left the room. He trusted them not to hurt one another, and that was all that was really important right now. Everyone needed to blow off some steam, and everyone did it in their own way. Robin, who most certainly could not get away with doing it by arguing with his team, was going to lift weights until he was exhausted – or until Raven was found; whichever came first.

When he reached the weight room, though, Robin simply sat down on one of the benches and stared at his hands, tracing the seams with his gaze, wishing he could do more than just sit around and wait for the scans to pick up Raven's location. Maybe they _should_ take off to Britain and try to figure out if someone there knew where she could be.

But all they'd found indicated she'd gone to Azarath, and he knew there was no way of reaching Raven if she was there, not without her help.

Still, it seemed strange. Why would she have taken off like she had? Why wouldn't she be back by now? She'd been gone for well over a day, approaching a day and a half, if they assumed she'd been missing since just after they went to bed the night before they'd discovered her. Robin didn't really know what to think anymore.

Rising, he crossed to one of the weight racks and began to throw himself into his workout. When he'd exhausted his reps, both arms and legs, he crossed to the heavy bag hanging from the ceiling and raged at it, not holding back, imagining it was Slade (or, perhaps, Trigon) receiving the blows from his fists, feet and legs.

Blind to anything but the workout and the focus of making the blows heavy as he could, Robin was nearly collapsing from exhaustion when the Tower alarm sounded and jerked him from the near daze he'd been in. Quickly as he could he made his way across the weight room, having darted halfway down the hallway before Cyborg's voice sounded on the internal speaker system.

"Yo, man, where are you? Meet us in the hanger. I found her!"

Tired as he was, Robin didn't think he'd ever scaled the Tower so quickly.

* * *

Raven kicked at the snow around her feet as she shuffled down the Hogsmeade high street, looking through the slightly foggy air for anything that might still be open, or at least that had a candle burning in the window.

Nothing seemed to have life to it though. Those buildings that weren't boarded up were firmly shuttered to protect the residents inside, and Raven had been here long enough to know a stranger banging on the door, especially after dark, wouldn't be welcomed. Particularly a stranger looking as she did, apparent school-age or not.

Raven looked a little worse for the wear after her ordeal and knew it, and knew it wouldn't help her any if she showed up unannounced. She was stuck in Britain again; that grated on her the most. If she'd been dropped back at home…

But no, she knew she couldn't expect Snape to Apparate her across an ocean and a continent. She didn't know, for that matter, if it would have even been a possibility. She would have refused, had it been offered – and she had the presence of mind _to _refuse. She didn't have any wish for more of these people to be close to her friends. It was bad enough that she'd had Dracona stay at the Tower for as long as she had.

Raven sighed, then shivered and pulled her cloak more tightly around her – at least as much as she could. Her leotard – this one, anyway – wasn't suited for snow and ice. She needed to find someplace warm to rest in, and quickly, or she was likely to freeze.

Going home, returning to Jump City and its warm weather and welcoming Tower, would have been ideal, but Raven couldn't seem to find the energy to pull herself out of the snow and go home. It wasn't any surprise, after she'd just been in a fight, and she knew she couldn't expect herself to recover so quickly… but it still frustrated her that she should be stranded in the snow with nothing to do but walk toward the castle, and think.

Raven had done more than enough thinking since Azarath. More than enough thinking for the short time she was sure had passed. It felt like it had been forever since she'd ended up in that dungeon, but raven was sure it couldn't have been more than a couple of days – if it had even been _that_ long. She really didn't know, had no real way of telling, at least not until she finally arrived back at Hogwarts.

Raven wanted absolutely nothing more than to go home, whether it was a feasible option right now or not. Returning to the castle and its slew of uncontrolled, pounding emotion when she was already so low was a less than exciting prospect.

As the winged boar flanked gates came into sight about the next hill though, Raven found the castle to be an increasingly welcome destination. It was warm at least, and if everyone in the castle wasn't _friendly_, they at least weren't all outright hostile. It wasn't the environment she wanted, not the one she would have preferred, but Raven would take what she could get. At least she could be sure Dracona wouldn't be lurking around, not if she was still with Voldemort.

The gates were only feet away when Raven heard the rumbling and, wary, nerves tightening back to the tense point they'd been stretched to, Raven started looking around for the source of it.

Her cloak clasp began blinking a moment later, casting a red light onto the dark snow, and then it was suddenly washed out, lost in a beam of light – power generated, electric white light that was completely foreign to this area – coming from above. Raven looked up and sighed in relief, the ghost of an exhausted smile spreading across her features at the sight of the T-Ship above her.

"Told ya I could find her! Didn't I tell you there was no beatin' the Cyborg? No magic can hide from my tech!"

The voice boomed from the ship's external speaker as the hulking metal ship landed on the path in front of her, the fans kicking up snow as it did. The engine cut and one at a time the team leapt down from their seats.

"Raven!" came a shouted chorus as they did. All five wore varied degrees of concern on their faces, to which Raven could only respond with a tired look.

"Hi," she offered, feeling lame.

"Friend! Are you unhurt?" Starfire trilled, floating inches above the ground, apparently unaffected by the cold.

"Mostly," she replied, making a beeline for her section of the ship. "I just want to go home, really." Robin was giving her a calculated look and she met it with one of her own. "When we're back at the Tower, Robin," she said before he could peak. The others followed their exchange carefully, and Raven detected a tension coming from them that hadn't been there when she left. She ignored it. She was too tired to deal with whatever issue had popped up in her absence.

"You've been missing for 36 hours, Raven," Robin replied.

Raven simply nodded in response, pulling herself up into the ship, too weary to levitate. She didn't miss the worried reactions this earned her from her teammates, but chose not to acknowledge them. She knew she would be called on by Robin to debrief on the situation as soon as they returned to Jump City anyway.

The others got into the ship behind her.

"So... why here?" Terra asked. "This where you went?"

A bout of confusion coursed through Raven at the question, but she could tell the other were wondering the same as Terra and so nodded toward the castle towering before them.

"That's the school," she mumbled, monotone.

Terra looked toward it. Then, slowly, the rest of the team imitated the motion. A pause, during which everyone secured themselves into their seats and the 'automatic override' light flashed on behind the controls in front of Raven (Cyborg gave her a thumbs up when she glared at him) and Beast Boy's voice crackled over the radio.

"Uh… Raven? That's a pile of rocks."

"With a sign which reads, 'Danger: Do Not Enter,'" Starfire added.

Raven frowned, looking at the school, trying to see what they saw. Then she recalled something she'd heard mentioned in passing one day. "It's Muggle-proof," she said, hearing a bit of awe in her own voice. "It's to stop non-magic people from wandering in."

"Sure you didn't hit your head?" Terra asked, her tone doubtful. "Maybe the cold got to you."

"Not funny, Terra," Robin scolded on the heels of the first comment, practically overriding the second. Raven just glared at her, biting back the retort that jumped to her lips.

"_Please_, can we just go home?" Raven growled once she was sure she could control the words that would come out of her mouth.

"Sure thing, Raven," Robin said. He sounded sympathetic. "Titans, move out!"

Raven felt nothing but relief as they took off, leaving snowy Hogsmeade behind them.

* * *

Harry hadn't done anything in the two days since the robbery but bum around Grimmauld Place, trying to listen in on Order meetings with Ron, Hermione and Ginny, and being thwarted. Christmas Eve, though, meant things were more festive than serious, and that the whole house was filled with smells coming from the kitchen as Mrs Weasley prepared dinner. A lot of members of the Order were supposed to be joining them that night, and business had been set aside, as though they could temporarily just put a pause on the war.

The overall mood in the house was relaxed, and despite the newspaper article, and the image of Malfoy – he was _sure_ that had been Draco Malfoy, whatever Hermione thought – that had been in the accompanying picture, Harry was finding that he'd been forgetting about it more often than not today. It was… rather pleasant, actually.

"Who else's coming, Mum?" Ginny asked when Molly came back into the kitchen from doing something upstairs. They – he, Ginny, Hermione and Ron – were all seated at the table, watching people bustling about, in and out of the rooms, listening to the 'pop's and 'crack's and 'fwoosh'es of them Apparating, Disapparating and using the Floo to come in and out.

Mrs Weasley counted off on her fingers. "Headmistress McGonagall will be here, your father should be in from work by the time dinner's on the table, Mad-Eye, I believe, and Professor Seraphlin."

"Professor Lupin'll be here too, right?" Harry asked, for some reason recalling the warning Remus had given him about Seraphlin. Why it should come to mind now, though, he wasn't sure.

"Of course, dear," Molly said with a smile, turning her attention to the stove. "Ron, Ginny, if you two could get the table linens from the hall closet and help me set up."

The Weasley siblings looked at one another, sighed, then almost as one rose and ran from the kitchen. Harry could hear the thuds of them hitting the walls as each tried to be the first there.

"If you break anything, you'll be replacing it!" Molly shrieked after them. "It wouldn't hurt you to _walk!_"

"Sorry, Mum!" chorused from down the hall. No banging followed, but Harry had no doubt they were competing some other way. He grinned and met Hermione's look as she rolled her eyes.

"Harry, dear, and Hermione, if you two could be dears and bring down the extra chairs from in storage upstairs?" Molly asked then.

They rose as one and filed from the kitchen, passing Ginny and Ron as they carried tablecloths back to the kitchen. "We'll join you in a minute," Ron said when Harry pointed toward the staircase. Harry nodded and he and Hermione kept walking.

"What do you want to talk to them about?" Hermione asked, giving him one of those 'I-know-you're-up-to-something' looks.

"I have a hunch about something. When's the last time you saw Professor Lupin and Seraphlin in the same room?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head. "Before term started, probably. But they have Order meetings we're not privy to together all the time, I'd think. What're you trying to get at, Harry?"

"Remember the warning Remus gave me?"

Hermione frowned at him. "What about it, Harry? I don't think them being in the same room would start anything. We're all on the same side here."

Harry shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. "I know, I know, I just… I have a really weird feeling about it. Something's going to happen at dinner. Maybe we should warn someone."

"It's probably nothing, Harry," was the patient response. He could tell Hermione didn't want to discount his worry entirely. He could also tell she'd rather there not be anything strange going on; things were strange enough already.

"What's probably nothing?" Ron asked, joining them at the top of the stairs. He was alone. "Ginny got caught helping Mum with more stuff downstairs," he said in response to their quizzical looks.

"_Harry_ seems to think there's going to be some sort of ruckus between Professors Lupin and

Seraphlin tonight. Tell him he's overreacting."

Ron looked at Hermione, then at Harry, and then shrugged a bit uneasily at being caught in the middle. "What if he's not overreacting?"

Hermione folded her arms over her chest. "Ronald!"

Ron cringed. "I'm just saying; Harry's usually pretty good with this stuff."

Still frowning, Hermione turned back to Harry. "I don't think you should say anything, Harry. I think it would be better if you kept whatever you think might happen to yourself."

"Why, you think _I'm_ going to cause something to happen, just by worrying?" Harry demanded, feeling his temper flare.

Hermione put her hands on her hips and shook her head. "You know I don't, Harry. I just think that, _if_ something might happen, there's no sense exacerbating it before it does. Both Professors Lupin and Seraphlin are still going to be here. I think it's better to just let something happen on its own instead of making people tense before hand."

Harry took this in. He could see she had a strong point, and that she was right – of course it was, this _was_ Hermione.

"She's right, too, mate," Ron said into his silence.

Harry nodded. "Fine. But if something happens…"

"We'll know you told us so."

* * *

While Harry was good at riding the tail of a hunch until it was fully revealed, it didn't mean he was always great at having his hunches be fully correct. Mrs Weasley had just begun serving the meal's main course when a headache began just behind Harry's scar. The scar itself didn't seem to be the cause of the pain, though, and that drove Harry to do his best to ignore it, occupying himself with the roast beef on his plate and consciously avoiding touching the spot so no one would worry. The tactic worked, too, at least until pain shot through the spot, bringing his hand up to cover his scar before he even realised he'd moved.

Ron and Hermione, of course, noticed instantly. Worried expression covered their faces but Harry waved a hand to ward them off. He could see Remus looking at him too, though no one else appeared to have noticed any change. None had let it register in their features if they had, too busy eating and talking and generally enjoying the Christmas Eve meal.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked from beside him, her voice low. Ron, sitting across the table from them, watched intently as he continued eating.

"Fine. It's just a headache, I think," he mumbled. Hermione looked unconvinced. Harry felt mildly embarrassed.

"It's not your scar?" she asked and Harry shook his head. By now, their conversation had attracted the attention of Ginny, sitting beside Ron.

"Pretty sure it's not," Harry replied, still muttering, then returned to his plate and the Yorkshire pudding sitting on it.

Pain shot through his head again, this time bringing Harry to clench his fist around his fork, the other hand gathering a handful of his jeans as he tried not to make the pain obvious.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice was soft, concerned.

"It's nothing," he replied, trying not to snap at her. When he glanced at her from the corner of his eye, Hermione didn't look convinced. He supposed he couldn't blame her, since Harry himself was beginning to suspect it _wasn't _actually nothing. He could think of something he supposed might cause a stabbing pain like this – something other than his connection with Voldemort, that was. But then the question remained—

What could Raven possibly want?

Harry stood up from the table, the motion so abrupt it sent his chair skidding back into the wall, smacking against it with a muffled 'bang!' Everyone looked at him, conversation dying immediately.

"Harry?" Remus asked, first to recover and looking concerned.

Glancing around a little wildly at all of the people staring at him, Harry stuttered, "I— uh— excuse me, just for a moment," then darted from the room.

Once out of the kitchen, hearing a rising, concerned whisper and knowing he didn't have very long to find out what it was Raven wanted, Harry darted for the downstairs toilet. He'd have preferred a place where he'd be able to lie down, if necessary, but he didn't think he had the time to get up to his bedroom. There was always the floor.

"Harry?" called Remus again as Harry was closing the door. "Harry, what in Merlin's name—"

"Just a minute, Remus!" he shouted back, then closed the door, flipped the lock on it and reinforced the manual lock with a locking charm.

Another bout of pain struck him and Harry threw out a hand to grab the wall for support so he wouldn't fall over. Then he slid down and sat, back against the wall, taking deep breaths for control. He was probably shielding wrong if her contact was hurting so much. He'd have to ask about that.

"Yeah, I'm coming!" Harry whispered, quite furiously, to the force in his skull. Then he closed his eyes and dropped the defence across the connection between him and Raven.

It was a good thing he'd sat down on the floor, because the force of the connection surging to completion made him black out.

* * *

When Harry's forest covered walls suddenly merged with the rocky barrenness of her mindscape, Raven knew she had finally gotten through to him. And when he appeared before her looking confused, she also knew they probably needed to resume their lessons.

"Harry!" she exclaimed, despite the disoriented look on his face that told her his body was probably unconscious and that he'd been ricocheted in here more abruptly than was strictly necessary.

As if just noticing he wasn't alone, Harry looked at her. "Raven! So it _was_... What's going on? What's Trigon done?"

"Not Trigon," she said, shaking her head. There was too much going on, too much to explain, and she had only contacted him for one reason. "Are you alone?" When Harry continued to look at her with that confused expression, Raven added, "Your body."

A look of comprehension dawned, followed by a bit of embarrassment. "I... uh..." Harry shook his head and laughed. "I locked myself in the toilet. More than half the Order's at Headquarters right now."

Raven, who had never been to the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix and, for that matter, never met the majority of its members, let the comment by. "That's going to have to do," she said, in response to his toilet comment. "Harry, this is important. Is Dracona at Headquarters with you?"

"Professor Seraphlin, do you mean?" Harry asked. Then at Raven's nod, "Yeah, she's there."

Raven very nearly swore. The woman moved fast. Far too fast. "Harry, as soon as you get a chance, you need to tell someone in the Order that Dracona is working with Voldemort. She—"

"_Voldemort_? Are you sure? How d'you know for sure? I haven't seen _anything_ from him in.. in weeks! What's she doing, working for Voldemort?"

Appreciating neither the interruption nor the doubt, Raven gave him a cold look. "I've just spent about 36 hours being held by Voldemort. I don't know what he wanted," this was said with a hand held up to forestall Harry asking, "but I know Dracona's told him something about me, and I know she's playing a role as his follower. Someone you trust, Harry, and _don't_ let it get back to Dracona that I've spoken to you."

"B— What d'you mean, you were _held_? Are you alright? How're you here now?" Harry demanded rapidly. Raven merely smiled at his concern. It felt strange knowing someone _other_ than the team, someone completely outside of it, cared for her.

"I'm back in the States, at home. Safe. Just do what I've asked, make sure they're aware Dracona hasn't really picked a side."

Raven could feel something pressing at the mindscape, and though aware it was on her end, gestured toward Harry. "Did you know you're unconscious again?" she asked, tone wry. Harry made a face. "I trust you can get out of it. Someone needs me back in the Tower."

She levitated up into the air, forcing Harry to stare up at her, looking a bit in awe. "You're still coming back to school in January, right?"

"I haven't finished my mission there. I'll be back, trust me." Then she let the mindscape dissolve, feeling her consciousness detach from Harry's to return to her body, her message delivered. She hoped someone would receive it well in Britain. Things would be an absolute mess if they didn't.

* * *

_Author's Corner_

Was originally going to have more to this chapter, but couldn't find a place to really slip it in, so the reaction scenes missing from here will be in the next. Happy reading!

* * *

_Completed: July 10/2010_


	24. Slade

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Titans, nor do I own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the two. Teen Titans is © of DC Comics, Harry Potter is © of J.K. Rowling, and Warner Brothers holds © over both of them.

**Author's Warning:** This is a crossover fic. :Watches people close the window.: Ahem. Those of you who do not like crossovers may leave now. The rest of you, I invite to continue on…

**Summary:** Trigon has returned, and Voldemort has joined him as a minion. Drawn by strange dreams, Raven must involve herself in the problems of others, including one Harry Potter, who is once again being plagued by strange nightmares. This year at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends are going to be pitted against their most difficult task yet. Destroying a force that even the Dark Lord himself fears won't be easy…

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Demon's Wrath, or; Year Seven and Negative One-Fourth**

_Chapter 24 – __Slade_

Blurry bathroom tiles and the base of the toilet were Harry's immediate greeting when he opened his eyes. Adjusting his glasses as he sat up, then got to his feet, Harry looked around, reorienting himself after the sudden shift back into the physical world.

A hurried conversation was going on just outside the door. Harry could make out Ron and Hermione's voices, mixed in with a garble of adults.

"Harry? Harry, dear, can you hear me?"

Mrs Weasley's voice. Checking in the mirror to make sure there wasn't a bruise forming on his face – or anywhere else visible, since he really didn't know how hard he'd fallen – and seeing nothing, Harry took down his locking spell and opened the door.

"Harry!"

Hermione had managed to push to the front of the group and threw her arms around him as soon as the bathroom door opened. Harry blinked at her.

"I'm okay, really," he said. Looking at the crowd that had gathered around the door, Harry couldn't help but feel a little sheepish. None of the faces around him looked convinced by the statement.

Hermione stood back to look at his face, a sceptical expression on her own. "What's going on?" she asked, voice low, aware of the people around them.

"Later," Harry mouthed. Hermione furrowed her brow and backed away.

"Harry, what's going on?" Remus asked, sounding exasperated. Harry glanced around and, seeing Professor Seraphlin in the gathered group, could only shake his head. Aware of what Raven had told him, Harry felt the urgency of making sure someone knew what she'd told him, but he also knew he couldn't say anything while the woman was present.

She was a Death Eater, or if not fully one, close enough to one. He couldn't believe the Order had missed it. He couldn't believe _he_ had missed it.

"Sorry," Harry said, not meaning it. At least his headache had cleared. "It was nothing," he added when he continued to be on the receiving end of unconvinced gazes. "Really."

A couple of shaking heads and people started returning to the kitchen. Harry was pretty sure they weren't convinced nothing was going on, but he couldn't say anything. Besides that, he knew he didn't have the best reputation for people believing what he told them. At least, not immediately.

Harry, Hermione and Ron filed back to the kitchen behind the group, Harry very aware that they kept shooting him looks.

"So, mate?" Ron asked just before they reached the kitchen door. Harry shook his head.

"Later, I said."

"Harry…" Hermione started.

"I can't right now, but you'll be the first to know."

"This have anything to do with what you said earlier, mate?"

Harry nodded, just once and quickly as they filed back into the kitchen, but it was enough. He saw Ron and Hermione shoot each other looks and cringed. Remus was sitting near them at the table, but so was Professor Seraphlin. He couldn't say anything now, but he knew he needed to say something soon, before the night was over. Professor Seraphlin couldn't be allowed to sit in on any more Order meetings if she was reporting to Voldemort.

"Harry, dear, have some more roast beef," Mrs Weasley said. She was already bent over the platter, picking up another slice and gesturing for Harry to pass his plate down to get it. Harry hid a frown as he did so. The food was excellent, as always. He would talk to Remus afterward and just enjoy now.

* * *

Raven came back into herself with a rush of breath, eyes flying open to take in the Jump City skyline, awareness of the physical world surging through her and Robin's presence next to her becoming front and centre in her focus.

"What's going on?" she asked, lowering herself from her levitated position and adjusting her cloak around her.

Robin nodded upward and the skyline switched over to a street corner camera set somewhere in Jump City's downtown. Slade stood on the corner, apparently just waiting for something, but he was looking up at the camera. He knew they were watching, there was no question of that. The question was, what did he want now?

"Did he say what he wants?"

"No sound on the camera," Robin said. "We think he's just waiting, but we don't know what for. I want us to go out, as a team, and investigate the area. Everything's pretty quiet, and that's what's bothering me."

"You think he wants to talk to me." Said without inflection, Raven could feel Robin recoil from the statement, though he showed nothing on his face.

"I don't care what he wants," Robin said. Raven frowned at him, unable to believe him since there was no one else in the room with them. Where was the rest of the team?

"Robin, if he's willing to talk to me, I'm willing to go and talk to him."

"He's after something, Raven. Something involving you, and I don't think it's wise for you to go out there and meet him."

"I want to know what's going on here. If he knows why Trigon's working here, then I think we need to get any information from him that we can. We can't let fear keep us holed up in the Tower, Robin. We have to _do_ something."

"He's trying to lure you out, Raven. He's interested in you and until we know _why_ he is, I don't want to put you in reach."

Raven shook her head. "Robin, that's not an option. You know it isn't."

Robin stood there and glared at her, with Raven able to feel irritation flowing off of him. "Raven—"

"Let me handle this, Robin. If it's related to what I'm dealing with in Britain, then it's crucial I handle whatever it is, and if it's not related, then I need to eliminate the thought that it might be."

Raven could feel Robin's hesitation, could sense the need to keep his team together and as safe as possible warring with her words, knowing that she was right. She simply stood and waited for him to come around. Whether Robin wanted her to go into the city or not, Raven knew she'd be talking to Slade today. She could see his mind turning the thoughts over and over, trying to work through anything Slade might be able to tell them, and sighed.

"Robin, you wouldn't have interrupted my meditation if you didn't want me to do this."

A guilty look, then a nod. "I'll get the team in place to back you up."

* * *

An hour later and Raven swept up from the shadows across the street from Slade, shadow-self arching upward to meet the sky with its beak wide open. Raven pulled the shadows back into herself, watching the man warily as she gathered her power together. When he didn't move, and in fact didn't make any motions at all to indicate he'd noticed her appearance, Raven took to the air and made a low swoop to alight in front of him.

"Raven."

"Slade."

"I confess, I'm surprised you've survived your overseas mission so far. And I'm curious. What is going on there?"

Raven narrowed her eyes and allowed her lips to tighten, knowing he couldn't see her expression for the deep shadow cast by her raised hood. "You've let us believe you know something. Why are you here today, Slade?"

A smile in his voice as the man responded, "I just wanted to see how you were doing, Raven. I've taken an interest in your welfare since I found out just how great your potential is."

"What about your borrowed powers?" Raven asked. Even as she said it, she was watching for signs of him using any power he'd gotten from Trigon. It had sounded, the way Robin had recounted things to her, as though Slade had been gifted with quite a bit of power again. Raven didn't know why. The abilities of the criminals in Jump City were the only sign Trigon might be trying to extend his reach beyond just his attempts in Britain. Attempts she was so far failing at stopping. There had to be something she could do here.

"I know nothing of them."

"Liar."

The feeling of another smile from behind the mask. "You have no faith in me, Raven."

"You don't deserve my faith. Why've you shown up here?"

"That isn't something I'm comfortable talking about here, where anyone can overhear us. If you were to come along with me, though, just for the evening, it would be a different situation."

The offer was tempting, but Raven knew she shouldn't follow him without clearance from Robin, and she knew he'd never go for it. Robin trusted Slade's intentions less than Raven did – and that was certainly saying something.

"There's no one here to overhear us," Raven said.

Slade laughed. "On the contrary, Raven. This is a busy street corner in the middle of downtown. Anyone can hear us here. Not to forget, of course, that the rest of your team has us surrounded, ready to pounce were I to do something… untoward."

"I don't think you actually know where your powers came from, or why you have them," Raven said. A stab in the dark, but Slade's obvious attempts to lure her away to someplace private were throwing her, even though she was sure they were only meant to distract her from the topic at hand.

More laughter.

"If that's what you'd like to believe, then I suppose it settles everything, and I'll be on my way."

Raven let him get twenty feet down the street before deciding he was serious about leaving the topic at that and pulling the shadows around her to reappear in a spiral of power in front of him. She let the tendrils lick him as she appeared, feeling a whisper of emotion from him ride in on them. It was just a tiny wisp, but she was sure it had been fear, and it gave part of her a thrill to know how level their playing field actually was.

"You do enjoy throwing your power around, don't you, Raven?"

Raven let exasperation seep through her. She wasn't getting anywhere, but she knew Slade had to know _something_. It was a matter of slowly working toward the topic that would cause him to reveal it.

"Why am I here, Slade?" she demanded, letting the question by.

"Why, in order to hear what you need to hear, Raven. I wouldn't think you would come for any other reason."

Raven closed her eyes and took in a long breath, feeling a wave of frustration push through her that caused a disk of black to begin to appear beneath her feet before she was able to fully stamp it away. She wasn't getting anywhere, and she needed to within the next few minutes if she didn't want Robin to shut down the operation altogether. With the amount of reluctance he'd shown toward letting her come here, she knew he'd be unwilling to wait as long as it might take for her to get information from Slade.

Her mission couldn't afford that. She needed to get whatever information Slade had _now_, and it would only continue to bother her if she didn't take the risk… even if she didn't end up finding out anything at all.

Her mind told her this was all a trap, a ruse to get her to go along with Slade, and she knew that was probably correct. She couldn't let it go though, no matter how angry Robin was going to be with her later.

"Your powers, Slade. Were they a gift?"

Slade shook his head, holding out a hand in a gesture suggesting he didn't know anything – almost, but not quite, a shrug. The motion inspired a sceptical reaction in Raven. Though she believed more and more that he had no idea of why Trigon had bestowed any powers, she was still certain he had to know something of what Trigon was up to.

He had inferred as much, and she was risking a lot trusting it wasn't entirely lies.

"I propose a trade, Raven."

Narrowing her eyes, Raven nodded once, the motion a quick jerk. "What's the trade?"

"I will give you the information you're looking for if you do something for me. That's simple enough, I should think."

"That depends on what you want me to do."

Not for the first time, Raven wished she could see through the mask Slade wore. His eyes wouldn't tell her much more than what little emotion she could feel from him was, but she was sure they'd do something to alleviate the odd tense feeling in her body.

It bothered her to realise she was the slightest bit afraid of the uncertainty looming over this situation.

"Just to come along with me and to answer some of the questions I have, in exchange for my answering yours. It's hardly a large request, Raven."

It was an enormous request, but she'd been waiting for it to come up again. Glancing down the street behind her, and playing out her senses a bit to feel for the rest of the team, Raven drew in a long breath. The team was not going to be happy about the decision she made.

This was her mission, though. Even if she'd been called back to Jump City, whatever was going on here had something to so with the mission she was carrying. At this point, it didn't look at all like it on the surface, but all the same…

"Where?" she asked tersely. A feeling from Slade, as though he were smiling, sent her tensing further. She knew this couldn't lead anywhere good, and wanted to curse herself for becoming so entangled in it all.

"Take us to the top of the bridge support furthest from the tower. I assume you know the one."

Not letting herself think about it, Raven opened the portal, enveloping herself and Slade in the blackness. She could feel the pull his presence was as she moved them through the nothingness, able to sense his powers that much more because of how close they were.

The power was too familiar. It left no doubt of its origins with her, and though it only took seconds, Raven had to launch herself backward, away from Slade and nearly into the air as they reappeared atop the bridge. Maintaining her distance, she watched as Slade reoriented himself, her eyes tracking him as he studied the area around them.

"Talk, Slade," she demanded when he was looking at her again.

"Patience, Raven. I will answer your questions if you first answer mine. After all, I need some sort of way to ensure I'm not simply left hanging."

Not liking the tone in his voice, Raven jerked her head in a nod.

"What is it you're doing overseas?"

Not expecting the question, because she was sure Slade already knew what her mission in Britain entailed, Raven took a moment to respond.

"Is that relevant?"

"It is if you want my help," Slade replied.

Raven frowned, reaching up a hand to cover her brooch when it suddenly began pulsing, the red light flaring from it bright enough to cast weird shadows over the front of Slade's mask and costume, especially with her fingers only half covering it. **She had minutes before the team suddenly showed up – moving entirely wouldn't have bought her much more time than that.

"Interfering with whatever Trigon's trying to do there," she replied. Slade laughed.

"And why is he back, Raven? Surely you had completely taken care of him the last time he arrived here?"

Raven, who had thought something along the same lines far too often lately, had trouble immediately coming up with a response to the question. Trigon's goal seemed obvious enough to her. She knew how his twisted mind worked, knew that completely taking over this dimension and expanding his empire to it was his only goal.

Knew that she was still, somehow, the one meant to help him achieve that.

But was Slade asking for Trigon's ultimate goal, or wondering how it could have been possibly for him to return? The question carried both connotations.

She answered the easier one.

"Power, Slade. Power and dominion. What else?"

"You're playing a dangerous game, Raven." The words carried more than they said, again, and Raven couldn't help but wonder if she were painting the wrong connotations on them. If Slade was trying to infer that she held direct responsibility for Trigon's reappearance, then he was far too far off based. Slade was smarter than that – she wouldn't be fooled into thinking he wasn't.

"I don't need your warnings. You answer _my_ question now. Your powers: why do you have them?"

Her brooch, having gone dark, began flashing again at this point. If she focused on the sounds of traffic far below them, she could hear the hum of a motorcycle not too far away. No way of knowing it was Robin, of course, but if it was she didn't have much time left.

The cry of a pterodactyl came, closer than the motorcycle sound, as Slade shuffled his feet. He was stalling; not nervous, but clearly didn't want to answer her question. It didn't surprise her, but she couldn't afford to not get the answer – whatever information Slade had, if he disclosed it, would be useful now.

"I've told you, Raven. I honestly have no idea why I've been given these powers. I would think it's some sort of… diversion."

A blast of green shot between them, Slade jumping out of the way as the familiar blue of Cyborg's cannon blew past in its wake.

Raven launched herself into the air, away from Starfire as she landed where Slade had been standing, Beast Boy dropping Cyborg and landing beside the other two a moment later. Her eyes scanned the bridge, gazing down the long cords holding the structure together, trying to spy him with no luck.

"Friend Raven! You are unharmed?"

Landing again, not letting her ire touch her features, Raven nodded once.

"Where's Robin?" she demanded.

Cyborg made a vague gesture downward, indicating the road below.

"He's coming, Raven," he added, his gaze following his gesture. There was a tone in his voice that suggested he'd picked up on her irritation. Just as well.

Raven shook her head, bringing a swirl of shadow up behind her in preparation for returning to the tower.

"I'll meet you back at home," she said, letting the shadow swallow her before any of them could protest. She appeared back in her bedroom, shaking her head and staring out of the window.

Resting one hand on the curtain, she thought about drawing it closed. Shutting out the daylight and just retreating into herself, trying to solve everything before she came out again, without interruption.

Interruptions would be coming though. From here she could see the bridge across the bay, could tell which tower the rest of the team stood on, their figures black silhouettes against the blue sky, indistinguishable from one another at this distance. She was going to have to answer to Robin when he returned to the tower, but for now…

With a sigh, Raven crossed the room and settled herself onto the bed, laying back and closing her eyes, letting her legs drape off the edge in a reasonably relaxed position. It had taken her a while to identify the feeling she felt now, but she knew now that it was all just too much. She was overwhelmed by the mission in its entirety, and though she should have become accustomed to working on her own by now, it appeared she was still far too reliant on the team.

Could she fix that? Could she reclaim her independence, and separate herself from the team enough to be able to deal with this mission?

Raven knew she had the ability. She was tied down by her feelings and emotions – the very things that she had to control so tightly in order to be in control of her powers. If she were alone, she wouldn't have to try as hard. If she were alone, she could deal with things without having to answer to Robin, without having to answer to anyone but herself, and maybe a couple of members of the Order.

A hand rapped on her door, the sound jerking her head up to stare across the room.

"Raven?"

She hadn't needed the confirmation of Robin's voice to know who was bothering her, and for one long moment, she debated just leaving – vanishing from the room now and taking herself across to Britain, mindless of where she would actually go once she got there. Eventually she had to return to the school, but she knew the right moment for that wouldn't be until classes actually resumed.

Then she shook her head, wondering where the train of thought had come from, and rose from the bed, crossed the room and opened the door.

"Robin."

"I think we need to talk," he said. She gave him a grim look in return.

"I don't think you—"

"Raven. Whatever else is going on, there was a plan today. You broke protocol, despite how important sticking to it was. This is Slade we're dealing with, not some cheap thief who can be taken down singlehandedly."

Raven glared at him.

"Do you really think I didn't know what I was doing, Robin?"

"You were reckless, Raven. It's not like you, and I'm worried. We're all worried."

Robin braced one hand on the doorframe as he spoke, holding himself so that she would either physically have to push him out of the way, or use her powers to transport herself if she hoped to get out of the room. Feeling a little trapped, Raven took a few steps backward, retreating into the room and being careful to give Robin no indication that he could follow. She wanted to be alone.

"I don't know what to tell you, Robin. I did what I had to," she replied.

He moved as though he were going to follow her into the room, causing Raven to bring a cautionary hand up, warning him off. She didn't want company now. She certainly didn't want him in her room, especially not when she was feeling this off.

"I need to meditate," she said, dismissing him.

"It can wait."

This caught Raven's attention, and the look she gave Robin for saying it wasn't friendly at all.

"You don't understand what I'm dealing with Robin, stop it."

"And I can't understand, Raven, unless you let me in. Maybe you should stay home, instead of going back to England, especially if it's bothering you this much."

Raven hesitated, recognising here that Robin was giving her an out, and at the same time knowing there was only one possible response to the offer.

"I can't, Robin. I'm the only one who has a hope of getting rid of him."

Robin crossed the threshold into the room then, heedless of Raven retreating a few steps when he began to come closer. The door whooshed closed behind him, and Raven wished she'd drawn the blinds closed so she didn't have to see the sun light up the pained look on Robin's face.

"It's become much bigger than it was in August, Raven. Are you—"

"Sure I can handle it? I have to be able to, Robin."

Robin hesitated, and she was grateful that he knew better than to argue with her on this. If she said she could do something, even if she didn't really feel as though she could, Robin wasn't going to strike her down. He would support her. He always had.

"I'll let today slide under extenuating circumstances. It can't happen again, Raven. We're a team." Robin paused, turning toward the door and letting it slide open. He was halfway through it before he turned back and added, "You're not alone. Remember that," and then disappeared into the hallway beyond, swallowed up by the dim lighting of the corridor.

* * *

_Author's Corner_

So I've been working on this story for something ridiculous like 5 and a half years, and I still don't have a playlist for it on my iTunes. Or… anywhere, for that matter. This might be asking a lot, but do any songs come to mind when you read this thing? I'm honestly very curious.

Also, the next couple of chapters are finished and just need to be edited, I warn, though, that I wrote them for NaNoWriMo, so they're very much just filler chapters. I'll be putting them up in two week intervals.

* * *

_Completed: November 29, 2010 / Uploaded: December 1, 2010  
_


	25. Diagon Alley

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Titans, nor do I own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the two. Teen Titans is © of DC Comics, Harry Potter is © of J.K. Rowling, and Warner Brothers holds © over both of them.

**Author's Warning:** This is a crossover fic. :Watches people close the window.: Ahem. Those of you who do not like crossovers may leave now. The rest of you, I invite to continue on…

**Summary:** Trigon has returned, and Voldemort has joined him as a minion. Drawn by strange dreams, Raven must involve herself in the problems of others, including one Harry Potter, who is once again being plagued by strange nightmares. This year at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends are going to be pitted against their most difficult task yet. Destroying a force that even the Dark Lord himself fears won't be easy…

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Demon's Wrath, or; Year Seven and Negative One-Fourth**

_Chapter 25__ – Diagon Alley_

Harry didn't think he'd ever had to take sure careful steps before in his life, as he had to take over the next few days. Professor Seraphlin seemed to be hanging around Headquarters more than she had previously – much more – and after his conversation with Raven, he was absolutely desperate to be able to tell someone what she had told him.

The problem was, he couldn't do that as long as she was around. He didn't know who he would tell if it wasn't Remus, and Remus was busy enough with doing things for the Order that he found he saw Seraphlin a lot more often than he ever saw his old Professor anymore. It had made him take to lurking in his room upstairs at Grimmauld Place, ignoring Phineas Nigellus' mutterings, sitting tight like the good boy he didn't want to be. If Dracona Seraphlin was a Death Eater – even an unmarked one – then she shouldn't be sitting in on Order meetings.

It had already been long proven to Harry, though, that if the adults in the Order didn't want to listen to him, then they weren't going to. It was hard not to go straight to Mr Weasley, though. Ron had been urging him to, and Hermione had made a few noises of agreement when she heard the topic come up, but Harry hadn't acted on it. He needed to talk to Remus, because Remus had already warned him about Seraphlin. He knew there was something crooked about the woman, and if Harry could add proof to that, then all the better.

A rap came at the door and Harry looked over, imagining for a moment – and only a moment - that he could see through to the person on the other side without having to call out. The knock had only been for etiquette's sake though, because a moment later the doorknob turned and Mrs Weasley let herself into the room.

"There you are, Harry, dear. Remus is here. He and Arthur are planning on taking Ron, Ginny and Hermione into Diagon Alley to pick up any refills on supplies before term starts, and while it's still early enough in the day that it's safe to go out. They suggested you might want to stay here, dear, but I really think you should go along with them and get out of this stuffy old house."

Harry was grabbing his scarf and cloak before Mrs Weasley could finish speaking, ignoring the snickering of Phineas Nigellus as he threw an extra sweater on. This was exactly the opportunity he'd been looking for. Sure, bringing up the topic of Death Eaters in public probably wasn't the best way to avoid bringing attention upon himself, but seeing as he'd be going out with identifiable members of the community anyway…

"And do put this on dear, just in case?"

Mrs Weasley handed him a hand knitted hat, red and gold striped, the gold yarn in it so bright it seemed to shimmer as though it were actually made from the precious metal.

"Mrs Weasley?" he prompted when she didn't explain.

"I was supposed to give it to you at Christmas, but hadn't had it finished in time. Consider it part of your gift. It should keep you from unwanted attention anyway." She was wringing her hands, clearly not wanting to allow anyone to leave the house to go shopping, of all things, and yet unable to stop them because she knew that some semblance of normal life had to be maintained if everyone didn't want to go crazy.

Harry smiled. "Thanks, Mrs Weasley," he said, tugging the hat onto his head, pulling the front part of it down so that the yarn's elasticity held his fringe to his head, covering his scar. Never mind that every Death Eater in the inner circle knew what he looked like; he'd wear the hat if it would make Mrs Weasley feel better, and beyond that, it was warm.

Mrs Weasley pulled him into a tight hug, letting him go after a long moment and turning away slightly.

"Go along, dear, they're all waiting for you," she said. Harry turned and crossed the room, moving around her, trying to ignore the motion she was making, as though wiping her eyes on her sleeve, while he went by. Even after knowing her for so long, it shook Harry as much as it pleased him to have someone so concerned for his welfare.

Harry made his way slowly down the stairs to the kitchen, where the three Weasleys, Hermione and Lupin were gathered by the fireplace. Mr Weasley and Lupin were talking in low voices, Hermione watching them carefully.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed upon seeing him. "We weren't sure you'd want to come."

"Didn't tell me you were going," he pointed out, wrapping his scarf twice around his neck as he made his way over to them. Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but Remus cut across her with a hand, gesturing toward Harry.

"Well, you're here now, and that's what matters."

"We should get moving before it gets too late. Don't want to hang around for any longer than necessary." Mr Weasley's voice was its normal jovial tone as he said it, but Harry noticed the nervous glance in his direction.

"I don't think I'm the one you need to worry about right now," he said quietly just before Mr Weasley Disapparated – Remus would leave last. Mr Weasley shot him a bit of a befuddled look just before he vanished. He glanced at Remus to find the other man had taken up the look.

"I need to talk to you," Harry said.

Remus held up a hand to forestall him. "I can see that, but it needs to wait for the moment. Hermione, you're next," he added to her. Hermione grabbed Ginny's hand.

"Hold on tight," Hermione cautioned Ginny. Ginny rolled her eyes but nodded, grasping Hermione's wrist. The two disappeared with a 'crack!' a moment later. Ron stepped forward onto the carpet in front of the hearth, counting to ten under his breath to give enough time for an alert to be raised if something was wrong on the other side – and also enough time for Hermione and Ginny to get out of the way.

"What is it, Harry?" Lupin finally asked, attention divided, as he was watching Ron just as intently as he was trying to watch Harry. Ron glanced at them, nodded once, then Disapparated.

"It's Professor Seraphlin," he said. Remus' eyes narrowed, and he nodded.

"When we're away from here," he stated. He sounded so sure that Harry fell quiet, fidgeting in place but able to hold onto the topic for another few minutes, since he'd kept quiet about it for days already.

"Go on, Harry," Remus said, indicating the empty rug. Harry hesitated a moment, tempted to blurt out the information about Seraphlin now, heedless of the chance of her showing up in the house at any moment.

As though reading the thought in his eyes, Remus gestured at the rug again.

"We can't keep the others waiting. I will hear you out, Harry, I promise."

Harry nodded, stepping forward to stand on the rug, and focusing on the place in the Leaky Cauldron where the safe area for incoming Apparition was marked out. He caught Remus' eyes a moment before he closed his eyes, spying a look in them he wasn't entirely able to interpret.

Then he let himself vanish, feeling the familiar compression Apparition caused, hearing the pop of his appearance – as well as the air in his ears – when he reappeared in the Leaky Cauldron. Ginny grabbed his hand and dragged him off of the rug, he'd appeared on, and Lupin was standing where Harry had been a moment later.

"Is everything okay, Harry?" Mr Weasley asked, beginning to shepherd his children and Hermione toward the door. Lupin grabbed his arm and started to lead him that way as well, glancing around at the other patrons in the pub. There weren't too many people, it was easy to see who was who – or would have been, if most didn't have their cowls pulled high enough to hide their faces - but all the same Lupin was moving with determination and a quick step, clearly wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible.

"I've something to tell you," Harry replied.

Lupin nodded as they exited out into the alley behind the Leaky Cauldron, Ron moving forward to tap the bricks and open the archway into Diagon proper.

"D'you remember the warning you gave us about Professor Seraphlin?" Harry asked, keeping his voice low as they moved as a group through the archway and into the street beyond. Listening to the movement of the bricks as they shifted back into place, Harry caught Mr Weasley's eye again. He looked as though any warning was news to him. Lupin, however, was nodding.

"I still haven't quite worked out what it is about her, but…" he began. Harry shook his head.

"She's a Death Eater. And some sort of weird demon thing."

Lupin sent him a look, and Mr Weasley sighed. "Really, Harry. You can't go around levelling accusations like that at everyone who rubs you the wrong way," Lupin warned.

Harry glared at him, suddenly realising he should have done this at Grimmauld Place, regardless of the chance of Seraphlin finding out faster. He couldn't raise his voice here – couldn't cause a scene and draw attention to them.

"I'm not making things up!" he said, forcing his voice to keep low even despite his harsh tone. "She might not be in the Inner Circle, but she's working for Voldemort!"

Lupin rubbed his forehead, looking exasperated and as though he didn't want to hear anything more that Harry was telling him, but also as though he knew he needed to Harry out. Harry was grateful for the latter; it meant he still had a chance to make his case, and hopefully since his information had come from Raven, Remus would give it more weight.

"Raven told me. She warned me about it on Christmas Eve, told me to look out for her because she'd just been taken and held by Voldemort and Seraphlin was there," Harry said, speaking quickly in his urgency to get this across.

The look Lupin gave him was more sceptical than the one he'd been receiving thus far.

"We didn't hear anything about Him kidnapping anyone," Mr Weasley said before Remus could respond. Lupin nodded in response though.

"We can't talk about this here," he warned when Mr Weasley looked as though he wanted to say something in addition. "We'll return to the topic when we're safely back in Grimmauld Place. And—"

Suddenly Harry was being shoved behind Lupin, and jostled around by the rest of them as Ron and Hermione moved to stand on either side of him. He felt a hand on his head, forcing him downward so that all he could see was the bulky winter robes and cloaks of the people surrounding him.

Wand clenched in his hand, wondering what Lupin could have noticed that he didn't, Harry grit his teeth and listened.

"I wish I could say they were being bold," Mr Weasley muttered. Ginny, standing next to him, made a soft noise that sounded part agreement and part terror.

"Oh don't, Bella. It's just rabble," said a familiar voice. Harry scowled, trying to place it. It took longer than it should have, given the tenser position Ron took on, and the jerky motion Ginny had made at the comment. Narcissa Malfoy, and if he was right, then she was talking to her sister.

Bellatrix Lestrange was in Diagon Alley, right in front of him, and there was nothing Harry could do about it unless a fight actually broke out and he could get away from his guard. His grip tightened on his wand with the effort not to break the rank, as memories of the fight in the Ministry, and of Sirius being knocked through the Veil burst into his mind.

"But useful rabble," came Bellatrix's voice. "This shopping trip could be more use than I'd previously thought."

The further tensing of the people around him suggested the woman had drawn her wand. Harry wanted to see. He _needed_ to see.

"Stop _moving, _Harry," Hermione hissed. Harry, who hadn't even noticed that he'd moved at all, froze.

"Odd way of standing, don't you think, Cissy?"

If Mrs Malfoy gave a response, Harry couldn't hear it. He didn't suppose it really mattered what she'd said, anyway, since Bellatrix's words had been said more to mock them than anything else. They were working, too, judging by how tense everyone around him still was, and by how much the Weasleys looked as though they wanted to strike.

"Harry," Remus said lowly. "When I give the signal, you grab Ginny and Apparate back to Grimmauld Place. We'll follow as soon as we can."

"I can't just leave you here!" Harry responded, feeling his temper flare.

"You can, and you will. There are more of us than there are of them, but I'd rather not have you and Ginny to look out for," Lupin said, tone brooking no argument.

"I'm staying," Ginny muttered. Mr Weasley said something in her ear that made her whip her head around to glare at him.

"Do as I've said, Harry," Lupin said quietly. "…Now!" he roared.

Spells burst forth around them, sending snow flying as Bellatrix let out a shrieking cackle. Almost blindly, he grabbed for Ginny's arm, holding his wand up and casting a protection charm to deflect a jinx, then pulling Ginny down to avoid a red stunner that went flying past their heads.

Tugging her arm, he cleared the others who were still throwing spells back at Bellatrix and Narcissa, and gripping Ginny's wrist in his hand, he pivoted in place, tunnelling them down as he Disapparated.

With a resounding 'crack!' they appeared back in Grimmauld Place's kitchen, the sound of their arrival still bouncing around and echoing through the small room when Mrs Weasley pushed open the door and came in, looking at them with her hands clenched together in front of her apron.

"You're back much too soon, what's happened?" she asked.

Harry looked at Ginny, who had freed herself from him and was giving him a sour look.

"You didn't have to listen, you know," she said, sounding put out.

"Listen to whom? Ginny? Harry? What's happened?"

"We ran into Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix in Diagon," Harry said, shaking his head. "Remus told me to take Ginny and get out, and that's all I did."

He needed to go back though. He should be there, helping them take Bellatrix down, because now that he was back in this house – this place where Sirius had resided, even if he'd hated it – he was feeling more and more that he owed a debt to his godfather. And with that came the feeling, stronger and stronger, that he should be out there now, trying to settle that debt.

Hermione and Lupin appeared in the kitchen a moment later, Hermione bracing him. She helped him to a chair as Mrs Weasley swept over.

"What's happened, Remus?" she demanded, looking him over. "Where are Arthur and Ron?"

"They're coming, Mrs Weasley. Mrs Malfoy took a curse and Bellatrix was busy dealing with her, but she got Ron with an anti-Apparition jinx first, so Mr Weasley has to undo that first," Hermione explained quickly. "And Professor Lupin took a curse here," she added, helping the man to push open the coat he was wearing beneath his cloak to reveal a gash on the right side of his chest.

Harry cringed. "You should've let me stay!" he exclaimed.

"Not now, Harry!" Hermione scolded.

Angry, mostly at himself for actually listening to Lupin and running when he should have stayed and helped them fight, Harry turned away, not wanting to stand and watch Mrs Weasley try and patch Lupin up when he shouldn't have been hurt in the first place.

The sounds of two people Apparating, practically on top of one another, came from the parlour and a moment later Ron and Mr Weasley had pushed their way into the kitchen.

"Bloody hell she's fast," Ron cursed. Mrs Weasley shot him a look for his language, but didn't scold him, too intent in her attempts to heal the curse on Remus' chest.

"Dittany, mum," Ginny said, suddenly appearing back at Harry's side, though he hadn't seen her go. She held a small vial outstretched in her hand, which Mrs Weasley snatched up as soon as it was close enough.

"This might sting a bit, Remus," Mrs Weasley warned. "But there's a bit of fabric in the wound that I have to et rid of before I can put the dittany on."

With that preamble, she raised her wand, putting the tip of it nearly up against the open wound and muttering a spell. An orange burst of light shot from her wand and Lupin flinched, looking downward and clearly trying to see the wound around his cloak as Mrs Weasley removed the stopper from the dittany.

"Oh I wish we had a real, trained healer around!" she muttered, mostly to herself it seemed as she dribbled the dittany across the wound in generous amounts.

Lupin let out a hard, pained sounding sigh. "You best will do, Molly, I'm sure," he said. It sounded like it was difficult to speak, and Harry cringed, taking a few steps backward. Ginny touched his hand, giving him a worried look he could only shake his head in response to.

"I think I need to be alone," he said, pulling away and backing out of the kitchen into the corridor beyond. Too convenient of a distraction. It had all been too convenient, and Harry wasn't at all sure what to make of that. Trying to suggest that Seraphlin had _known _and sent the two women out as a diversion wouldn't get him anywhere. Harry didn't really believe the thought, though it had crossed his mind.

It was just a lousy coincidence that had gotten in the way of everything else.

He needed to persuade Lupin that Raven was right, that Seraphlin was a Death Eater. It was hard, though, when he didn't have any of his own proof, just that of Raven's word… and when the Order hadn't known of her kidnapping – which in itself seemed strange to him, as he was sure it was something the Order should have been well aware of, whether Raven had left the country at some point or not.

"Harry," Hermione prompted, following him from the kitchen. "_Harry_. Wait."

He paused, willing to hear her out but not wanting to turn around and see the look she was sure to be giving him.

"Harry, you just didn't deliver it well…"

"Term starts in four days, Hermione, and there's things going on that the Order isn't aware of. Things going on that they _don't want_ to be aware of. How is this helping anyone?"

"This is so much bigger than everything else, Harry. You know that."

He did. He knew it so well that to hear it again, here, was just repetitive. The problem was, he didn't know what to _do_ about it. He had so much information, now, and at the same time, knew absolutely nothing. The Order was keeping him in the dark. Maybe they _knew_ Seraphlin was a Death Eater. Maybe she was a plant for them, since Snape had turned traitor. Maybe he was misinterpreting everything.

Maybe it was even just that Raven couldn't be trusted, and that was where he was mistaken. After all, her father was Trigon. This whole thing could be tied back to her blood line…

"Harry?"

"They have to listen," he muttered.

"They will, Harry. You just need to sit down and make sure your case is presented without fault. Why don't we go over what Raven told you again?"

Harry actually looked back at her then, a small smile touching his lips at his relief.

"If you think it'll help. Thanks, Hermione."

* * *

Raven paced back and forth across her room, nursing the beginnings of a headache. It was nearly time for her to return to Britain, to throw herself back into the problems at Hogwarts, and she dreaded the need to resume that role. There was still too much going on here that she wasn't aware of, still too many holes in the story. The only thing she could be almost sure of, now, is that she was better prepared to deal with Dracona.

That was, if Dracona dared return to Hogwarts at all.

Too much had happened since the last few days of the term, and since the holiday break had begun. Raven needed to get her thoughts in order, needed to figure out just what parts of the case she was going to present to McGonagall when she returned, and what it was she was going to keep to herself.

Everything, though, was dependant on Dracona. It all relied on whether or not she returned, and if she did, how she acted when she was back. Students had begun seeing her more and more frequently when she was taking her flights on the grounds. Raven knew that, but she wasn't sure how much of a threat Dracona took that to be.

She wished she had more solid ground to stand on. It felt as though every time she managed to learn something and was able to take a few steps forward, she ended up sliding back even further. It was getting to the point where she didn't really know what to do about it anymore, except to keep ploughing forward, taking the setbacks as they came.

She was keeping up with everything, but only just barely. Once she returned to Hogwarts, she knew she was going to end up swamped by everything all over again, and that foreknowledge was not a good feeling.

"Raven?"

She turned and looked to see Beast Boy standing in the doorway, a guilty look on his face.

"Sorry. I knocked but you didn't answer, so I just came in."

She rolled her eyes. "What is it?"

"I just—I know it's been a couple of days now, but I wanted to tell you that, whatever Robin says, we all know you did what you had to do with Slade. Did'ja learn anything?"

Raven hesitated, thought back to the conversation with Slade, and shook her head. "Nothing direct," she replied. "Just more shadows, things I have to assume and then that I have to further assume are absolutely true."

"So you're not getting anywhere?" Beast Boy asked.

She looked at him and sighed. Was she getting anywhere? She certainly didn't think that she was, but then maybe she'd been wrong.

"I don't know, Beast Boy," she muttered. "But Slade was just as helpful as I expected him to be."

Slade had said something about his powers being a distraction, just before the team themselves had jumped in and interrupted. Maybe there was something else there that she hadn't considered.

"Can you stay home?" Beast Boy blurted suddenly.

Raven stared at him. "Of course not. I have a commitment. I told them I'd go back."

"None of us think you should," Beast Boy protested. "And everyone's being all supportive because they know this is your mission, but everyone thinks you should stay here. We can help you deal with Trigon from here, Raven, but no one can help you if you're so far away."

"I don't have time to deal with this right now, Beast Boy. I have to make sure I have everything to return to Britain."

"We want to come with you then, just a couple of us. Give you extra backup."

Raven paled. The only reason she'd been doing so well on the overseas mission so far was because she knew she had them to come back to. She couldn't protect them against wizarding magic. She'd learnt that much on Halloween when the Killing curse had ripped through her shields.

"Absolutely not."

"But, Raven!"

"No!" she shouted, feeling her anger and worry get the better of her, knowing that her demon half had flared up in that moment. She turned away, hiding her face. This was getting out of hand; she had to get him far away from here. Send him back away, so that his influence over her was gone.

She heard the door to her room close again, sensing she was alone. Beast Boy had run out. However she had meant to deal with him, this hadn't been it.

She really, really needed to end this.

* * *

_Author's Note_

Filler-y chapter is mostly filler-y. Oh well. Next chapter in two weeks or so!

* * *

_Completed: December 13, 2010_


	26. Return to Hogwarts

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Titans, nor do I own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the two. Teen Titans is © of DC Comics, Harry Potter is © of J.K. Rowling, and Warner Brothers holds © over both of them.

**Author's Warning:** This is a crossover fic. :Watches people close the window.: Ahem. Those of you who do not like crossovers may leave now. The rest of you, I invite to continue on…

**Summary:** Trigon has returned, and Voldemort has joined him as a minion. Drawn by strange dreams, Raven must involve herself in the problems of others, including one Harry Potter, who is once again being plagued by strange nightmares. This year at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends are going to be pitted against their most difficult task yet. Destroying a force that even the Dark Lord himself fears won't be easy…

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Demon's Wrath, or; Year Seven and Negative One-Fourth**

_Chapter 26 – Return to Hogwarts_

"Yo, guys, stop talking about Raven like she couldn't appear in the room at any moment," Cyborg warned, looking around at the team from where he stood in the kitchen, then glancing at the door to the main room, and then up at the ceiling.

Robin supposed he had a point. Raven had made herself scarce in the days leading up to her scheduled return to Britain, and though Robin didn't think she was going to show herself again any time soon – at least not until dinner – it was probably still better if they weren't fully talking about her behind her back.

"Cy's right," Beast Boy chimed in. "Rae's stressed enough as it is. We don't need to add to it, make her think we don't like her or something."

Robin wasn't the only one to look at him strangely, wondering where the comment could have come from.

"What d'you know that we don't, BB?" Cyborg asked. Robin looked on keenly, wanting to know the answer to the question as well. It was usual enough for Raven to keep secrets – she had for as long as he'd known her – but Beast Boy was a different matter entirely.

"I just think that everything with Trigon, and the mission in Britain is bothering her more than she'd telling us."

Since she was telling them a lot, at least for Raven, that was saying something.

"Beast Boy. Is Raven actually talking to you, or are you making things up?" Terra asked.

The immensely frustrated look Beast Boy gave her in response was enough of an answer.

"Uh, guys? Talking about Raven again," Cyborg warned.

"We should not be afraid of talking about friend Raven! We are only expressing our concern for her!"

"Sure Star, but—"

"Actually, I think maybe we should be?" Beast Boy suggested weakly. "'cause, you guys know how Trigon's back, and all? Well I think it's kinda starting to affect her more than it was before."

"Raven's self-control is excellent," Robin stated, filing away Beast Boy's statements. "We only need to worry if she tells us to."

"What if she's been trying, and doesn't know how?" Beast Boy asked. "Doesn't anybody else feel like Raven is… I don't know, reverting, or something? She'd been acting way different since she got home."

"She's under a lot of strain," Robin replied. He'd noticed changes in Raven's behaviour too, but had placed them directly in relation to everything she had been dealing with in Britain – the parts she had told them, and those she hadn't – and hadn't thought that long about Trigon and what his presence might be doing.

He didn't think he was wrong in assuming Raven would come to him and tell him about things if they started becoming too difficult, but then, he also hadn't thought she'd behave the way she had the day she'd gone to meet Slade.

There was something different about the way raven had been acting lately, certainly, but Robin didn't think it was anything directly related to Trigon. At least, not connected to any influence Trigon might have had over her. Instead, he was almost certain it had more to do with some sort of obsession Raven had developed over taking Trigon out on her own. He could relate, and he also knew he was going to have to be the one to do something about it.

It was one thing to have a personal enemy. It was another to have one that caused an incapability to function in situations not directly related to that enemy. Robin knew, and understood, that all too well.

"Are you sure that's all it is, man?" Cyborg asked. "If she went all four-eyed and scary…"

"You must _stop_ calling our friend scary!" Starfire exclaimed. Everyone turned to look at her. "Raven needs our support and friendship right now! If she is scared, or worried about not being able to deal with all of this on her own, then she had to know we are there for her, instead of thinking that we are unable to deal with whatever it is that she is dealing with!"

"I told her a couple of us were thinking about going back overseas with her, Star," Beast Boy said. "She didn't take it well."

Robin frowned, crossing his arms and tapping his foot as he tried to think of something, anything, that would help them to get Raven to open up again. It was going to be difficult, but…

"Maybe we should just let her continue to take her lead on this, Robin," Cyborg said. He still looked cautious about talking about Raven when she was upstairs, cloistered away. "I think this is something Rae really needs to do, on her own, to prove to us and herself that she is capable of being relied upon."

"Why does she suddenly think she has something to prove?" Terra asked.

"Because it's Trigon," Robin said quietly. "And she thinks it's her fault he's here."

"Well, that's stupid," Terra stated.

"It doesn't matter what it looks like to us, we have to remember that, no matter how much she tries to, and needs to, hide them, Raven has emotions too. She feels more than any of us." Robin paced to the other end of the room as he said it. "Just act normally when she comes down. If she doesn't want us to worry about Trigon, then we can pretend we're not worrying about Trigon."

"But we're still gonna go and help her in Europe, right?" Beast Boy asked.

Robin sighed. "I don't know, Beast Boy. I'll think about it."

* * *

"Have you heard from Raven since Christmas Eve?" Hermione asked, looking over at Harry all of a sudden. He wasn't quite sure where the interest had come from. He knew she still wasn't very fond of Raven, and he'd been sure the story of her being kidnapped would have just soured Hermione's disposition more – they still didn't really know why Raven had been taken, after all. She hadn't been totally clear on that.

"No," Harry answered, thinking back as he gazed at the chess board in front of him. He was playing with Ron, and losing badly, so didn't feel all too rotten about letting his attention be divided. His pieces had issues with this, of course.

"You can't do that!" a pawn protested when Harry ghosted his finger above it, trying to figure out what the best move would be for him to make next.

"Your queen side knight, Harry. Move it forward and you can check his king," Hermione offered. Ron glared at her.

"Whose side are you on?"

"Oh, don't give me that, Ron. You know you're going to win anyway. I'm just helping Harry go down fighting."

Harry rolled his eyes, but allowed his knight to go where she'd directed anyway.

"Check," he offered. Ron snickered, turning his attention to the board in order to make his next move.

"Doesn't that worry you?" she asked.

Harry frowned at her a moment before realising she meant Raven's lack of contact. "Not really. I figure she's safe. I haven't seen anything from Voldemort to suggest she isn't."

"You didn't last time either, Harry," Hermione reminded him.

That was true, and Harry thought about it for a long moment, wondering if maybe there really was more to Raven's silence than simply her being at home with her friends and enjoying the holidays.

"She's in another country, remember. Can't really expect her to owl," Harry said, trying not to worry.

Hermione frowned at him. "Well, if you're really not worried, then I guess there's probably nothing to worry about. I just thought that maybe, after being taken by Voldemort and all, she might have told you something more at some point."

"I expect she will when we're back at Hogwarts," Harry replied, looking at the chess board as Ron's bishop captured his knight. "Hey! Did you know he was going to do that?"

Hermione's eyes found the board. "Oh. I must've missed that. Sorry, Harry."

"I was going to leave it alone," Ron said. "But then you two started staying that bloody name again. Can't you just call him You-Know-Who?"

Rolling his eyes and grumbling to himself, Harry studied the board again. "It's just a name, Ron."

"Yeah, of the evil git who wants to kill us!"

"Saying the name isn't going to summon him, Ronald," Hermione said.

"You never know," Ron grumbled darkly.

* * *

The day before term was meant to resume, Raven stood on top of the Tower, staring out at the bay and enjoying the warmth of the sun on her skin. It was January, and she knew once she got back to Hogwarts the chill weather was going to be a shock, so it was best to get her fill of the sun she wasn't going to see for another five months, _now_. Maybe she wouldn't miss it as much this way.

"Hey Raaaven," Beast Boy called, coming up behind her. She glanced at him, rolling her eyes as he turned into a bird, fly and bee before morphing back to himself.

"What?" she asked.

"I was wondering if you'd thought about us coming with you," he said, taking a seat on the edge of the building and looking up at her. Raven scoffed.

"You're not coming," she said. "It was never an option, and I'd appreciate it if you would all stop pretending like it ever was. This is my mission."

"But Raven…"

"No, Beast Boy. None of you can even see the castle, you're not going to be of any use there, and if you leave criminals like Slade are just going to have a better chance of getting whatever they want. I can deal with Trigon."

"I don't think you can deal with him alone."

Raven stared down at him, trying to figure out exactly where that had come from.

"You thought you could last time, too, Raven, remember? But you're stronger with us than without us. You have to remember that. I _know_ you remember that."

It was true. She did know that she was better with the team than without them, but she also knew that they couldn't be of any help on this mission. There was too much magic, and not one of them was properly equipped to deal with that.

"No, Beast Boy," she said softly. "I want to say yes, but it has to be no."

He stood up and just looked at her for a long moment. "I can't understand why, Raven."

"I know," she muttered, turning away. Shaking her head and then drawing up her hood, Raven allowed herself to be swallowed by shadow and to sink into the roof of the tower so he wouldn't be able to stare at her as she made her way back to the stairwell, and wouldn't be able to trail her back to her room.

It upset her that she had to turn her friends away like this, but there wasn't anything else Raven could do. Cyborg wouldn't be able to even function with the magic at Hogwarts. None of them could even see the building, and she knew that she was inviting more trouble than there already existed if she allowed them to follow her.

She would do this alone. She knew she was perfectly capable of it.

* * *

Draco looked at the trunk set on his floor, pondering the books on his bed and trying to figure out what he was going to need for the second half of the year. It wasn't as though he couldn't send back home for the books he was missing, later, but he wanted to be somewhat prepared if he was going to be going back and actually committed to sticking out the rest of winter and spring at school.

Having missed the end of the fall term meant that he had very little idea of where things actually stood in most of his classes, despite letters he'd received from his friends, trying to reassure him that he hadn't really missed much, and telling him what it was that he had missed when that wasn't possible.

It hadn't really helped. His father had had to pull strings to get it so that he could afford to have missed assignments that were now well overdue, especially since Draco knew that very few teachers would be willing to grant him any sort of privilege. The Malfoy name meant a lot less now than it had a couple of years ago, and that bothered him – and his father – a lot.

So now he stood packing, getting ready for school, and trying to figure out why he desperately felt as though he were missing something. No matter how much he thought about it, though, Draco couldn't figure out what it was that he was missing. Something, certainly. He felt lighter, almost, but heavier at the same time, than he had for the last few months.

Maybe it was just a feeling of relief at finally being able to get out of the house. It wasn't really that he liked school, but he liked it a hell of a lot more than the constant look of worry on his mother's face, and the presence of the Dark Lord whenever he dared walk by the parlour. Liked it better than hearing his crazy aunt cackling at strange hours of the night.

Liked it better than seeing his father beginning to look desperate, and not really knowing why that was.

So he was going back to school in the morning, and he was going to be satisfied with it, because it was a lot better than anything he was facing at home right now, even if he would have to resume being surrounded by mudbloods, and pretending to be friends with members of his house. He was pretty sure he could summon up the ability to feign those things now, might even enjoy it.

With a sweep of his wand, Draco send all of the books flying into his truck. It wasn't as though he was the one who had to carry it anyway, so weight wasn't really an issue – and there were always feather weight charms – he just wished that he hadn't been pulled out of school.

There had been no good reason for it, from what he'd been able to tell. One day he'd been in class, then next his father was marching up to the school and pulling him home, simply because the Dark Lord had said so.

He could have understood it if the Dark Lord had actually had work for Draco to do, but there hadn't been much. He was sure watching Raven Roth – which he _had_ been doing – was a lot more important than anything he'd done once back at home. And if it wasn't, then he didn't know why he'd been watching her in the first place.

"Draco?"

He looked around at the sound of his voice, turning the face the door and nodding, though he knew no one could see him.

"In here, Mother," he called.

Narcissa appeared in the doorway a moment later, looking a little bit worse for the wear after the duel she'd been in the other day, but otherwise she was smiling at him as though there were nothing wrong at all.

"You're almost ready then?" she asked, looking at his packed truck. Draco nodded.

"Everything's packed," he said. Narcissa cast her gaze across the trunk, then nodded and with a gesture of her wand sent the lid snapping closed. It locked with another wand jab.

"Very well, come along then," she murmured, touching his shoulder as she moved by and back out toward the doorway. He gave her a sceptical look, worry entering him suddenly as he realised she had a reason for coming to find him, beyond just wondering where he was.

"What is it?" he asked.

Narcissa shook her head, and Draco sighed. "Mother, really…"

"Not now, Draco. There's somewhere you have to be, and I don't want to hold you up."

She said it so calmly that he could almost have believed her, if he didn't know her well enough to know that the determined look on her face meant she was hiding something, and not hiding it very well.

"What're you worried about?" he asked.

"Draco, quiet," she said, this time with a bit of an edge that drove him to be quiet more than anything else. He would find out what was going on soon enough, it seemed, and until then there was nothing he could do but pace along behind her. It was clear Narcissa either couldn't, or simply wasn't going to, warn him about why he was wanted, and by whom.

She left him at the door to the parlour, patting his arm gently and giving him a tense smile. Draco drew in a long breath. He'd known where he was being led, but not why, and having no more indication now than he had moments ago wasn't helping.

Draco let himself into the parlour, since the door was open a crack in invitation.

"Shut it tightly behind you," instructed the high voice by the fireplace. Draco did as he was bid, closing the door and ensuring it caught, then lowering himself to his knees – as much as it pained him to be bowing to anyone.

"My Lord?" he said softly, trying to model himself after his father, wondering how Lucius would act in a situation like this.

"You return to Hogwarts tomorrow, correct, Draco?" the Dark Lord asked. The question was rhetorical, or at least the Dark Lord knew the answer to it, but Draco answered it anyway. It was probably some sort of test that he couldn't see through right now.

"Yes, My Lord," Draco said softly. Where was this going?

"When you arrive, you are to go to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Someone will be awaiting you there."

The forest? He needed to go to the forest? What was this about?

"My Lord?" Draco asked softly, hoping that the order was going to be elaborated upon, because right now it was looking like some sort of lame prank.

"You will be given further instructions by on of my Generals there. That is all."

Draco took in a sharp breath, wondering if that could really be all he'd been called for. It seemed like a waste of time, both of the Dark Lord's and his own… but perhaps the mission was important, and the Dark Lord just couldn't be bothered to tell him what it was directly?

Draco didn't know, and didn't think that made much sense, but for all he knew that was exactly what was going on here.

"Of course, my Lord," Draco murmured, staying where he was.

"You're dismissed, Draco," came the amused voice, still over by the fire. Draco was just grateful he hadn't come over here. Or any closer, at all.

He rose, backed from the room, and closed the door again. He knew without being told that he wasn't to mention the Dark Lord's instructions to anyone else, but he still had to wonder if either of his parents knew what was going on.

Narcissa was still standing outside when he'd exited the parlour, and she gave him a wary look when he came out.

"That was far too fast," she whispered.

Draco shrugged his shoulders uneasily. "I can't say anything," he said quietly. His mother only nodded, gesturing for him to follow her again.

"At any rate, it's time we left. Term starts again tomorrow," she said briskly. Draco cringed, wanting to ask if there was anything more going on, but not daring to. He still felt as though there was something he was forgetting.

* * *

"I expect you'll call the moment you discover you need us," Robin said the evening of their farewell and her return to Europe.

Raven could only nod. "Of course. You'll be the first ones I call, if I think I can afford to make the call and wait for you to arrive."

"No, Raven, you call us anyway. No matter what you think, you need to call us anyway."

She smiled, knowing that it was probably never going to happen, hopefully as well as Robin did, but appreciating the words anyway.

"I'll call you if I need you, Robin," she promised.

He nodded, and she could sense that he wasn't quite satisfied, but that he was pretending to be anyway, for her sake.

"Well… I guess I'll see you all in a few months, then," Raven said weakly. She felt guilty because she hadn't really been able to help at all with anything they were dealing with. She'd been kidnapped, messed up a meeting with Slade, had been rusty in every training round… She really wasn't cut out to be a Titan at this point, that was for sure.

But she would be better when she returned. Everything would be better when she returned, because when she returned she was going to have proved herself again, and she would again be worth the title of Titan.

It wasn't that she didn't think she was now, more that she distinctly felt as though she really hadn't been puling her weight since September. Too much had gone wrong for her to feel any other way. Far too much.

"Bye, Raven!" called out the team in their various ways, their voices turning into a cacophony behind her. Raven smiled and waved, then pulled her power around her and allowed herself to simply vanish into the shadows.

Hogwarts, and every problem it contained, was waiting for her.

* * *

"In you go, Hedwig," Harry murmured, folding out his arm to let the owl hop from it to her perch. He closed the door to the cage when she was within, flicking the latch shut, then reaching a finger through the bars to stoke the plumage on her head. Hedwig hooted softly at his touch, and he smiled and drew away.

"Back to Hogwarts soon, so it's not for long," he promised, picking the cage up and making his way from the room.

He paused at the top of the stairs, a thought grabbing him. Turning at the sound of a trunk brushing the floor of the landing above him, he looked up the stairs to see Hermione shifting a couple of books in her arms.

"Alright?" he called up.

She nodded, proceeding down the stairs with just the books, leaving the trunk for another trip. A worried expression crossed her face as she eyed Hedwig's cage.

"Have you seen Crookshanks?" she asked, looking around as though expecting the cat to saunter out of Harry's room. Harry shook his head.

"I'm sure he's around somewhere. Listen, Hermione, d'you think Malfoy's going to be back at Hogwarts this term?"

Still looking around for her cat, Hermione rolled her eyes at him and gave a little sign. "Honestly, Harry. I don't know, and I don't think it's anything you should worry about. You have more important things to think about than Malfoy."

"_Something _was going on with him, Hermione! And if he's back at Hogwarts, then maybe we can figure out what that was." He fumbled in his pocket for the folded, tattered _Prophet_ clipping of the article about the Kinnyl's Eclectics robbery, smoothing out the picture attached to it to watch Malfoy in the corner of the image.

"I'm still not convinced, Harry," Hermione said with a sigh. "That picture's so grainy…"

"I'm sure it's him, Hermione."

"Even if it is, you shouldn't be bothering with it. Let the Order deal with it; they're more equipped to than you are," she said, sounding patient but exasperated, as though explaining something to a young child. Harry scowled at her.

"When's that ever stopped him before, Hermione? You two need help getting your trunks downstairs? They want to leave soon," Ron said, appearing on the stairs below them. "And Lupin wants to talk to you for a minute, mate," he added to Harry.

"Well it should stop him," Hermione muttered as Harry started down the stairs, rolling his eyes and ignoring her comment.

"What's Lupin want?" he asked Ron as he passed him. Ron shook his head and shrugged, causing Harry to frown and, curious, make his way more quickly to the kitchen.

Remus sat near the head of the long kitchen table, his back to the low fire burning in the hearth behind him, his gaze focused downward on the newspaper he was reading. His eyes came up at Harry's entrance and he smiled, shutting the paper and folding it, then resting his arms across it on the table.

"Ready to go back?" he asked, voice amiable, worried eyes saying something entirely different. Harry shrugged, feeling uneasy despite trying to exude confidence (of some sort, anyway). He hadn't spoken to Lupin since the trip into Diagon Alley, at least not more than in passing, and despite him and Hermione trying to work out the proper way to re-broach the subject of Seraphlin, he still didn't have a way to comfortably bring the topic back up with Lupin – not when the man had been so quick to shut him down before.

"I've been thinking about what you said the day we were in Diagon Alley," Remus started. Harry's expression turned surprised. He'd hoped Remus hadn't dismissed what he'd said out of hand, but even so hadn't expected it to come back up in conversation.

Harry glanced around the kitchen, knowing that the Weasleys, Lupin and Hermione were the only ones here at the moment, but also aware even more members of the Order were meant to be coming by to serve as their escort back to Hogwarts.

"Should we be talking about this here?" Harry asked.

Remus waved a hand, gesture dismissive, though he glanced around the room as though recognising Harry's point.

"Harry, I don't want you to go back to school thinking that I didn't believe you, or that the Order hasn't received the information passed along." Here he hesitated and Harry frowned, waiting for a continuation he was sure he wouldn't appreciate.

"I recognise that look," Remus said. Harry ignored the gentle chastisement, and, face set, waited for the 'but….'

Remus sighed. "We aren't trying to let you down, Harry, but you have to understand how much the Order is dealing with right now. We—"

"Don't you think a _spy_ in the Order should be a priority? Look at what happened with Snape!"

Not looking impressed at being cut off, Remus waited a long moment after Harry finished speaking before he continued.

"We are doing our best to look into the claim you made concerning Dracona Seraphlin, Harry, but these things take _time_. You have to understand that."

"Why isn't Raven's word enough, when it was the Order who asked her here to begin with?" Harry demanded. He was getting tired of receiving the same run-around from the Order; sick of feelings as though nothing was being done.

Remus put his head in his hands. "Because it _can't_ be enough, Harry, and," he looked up again, fixing Harry with a stare, "I believe, if you knew the whole situation, you would be able to see it in our way as well."

"Try me," Harry said, irritated. "D'you think that, for some reason, I won't be able to handle whatever the 'whole situation' actually is?"

"I was getting there, Harry." He sighed again. "Dracona Seraphlin is the one who recommended Raven to begin with. If she proves to be untrustworthy…"

Balking, and feeling his mouth drop open, Harry shook his head. "No. Just, no!" There's no way they're on the same side. Raven trusts Seraphlin as much as… as much as _I_ do! As much as you did at the beginning of the year when you warned me about her. Raven's on _our_ side. We can trust her."

The sound of footfalls started on the other side of the kitchen door, prompting Remus to rise from his seat and Harry to turn.

"We're out of time," Remus said. "Harry, everything you've said will be taken into consideration, but I just wanted to make sure you know the state of things, as they are _now_. I understand you don't think its fair, but—"

"You've explained it, Remus, I get it," Harry said flatly.

The kitchen door opened to let Ginny in, giving Harry a distraction from Lupin's discouraged expression. Just because he understood something, didn't mean he had to like it.

* * *

_Author's Corner_

This chapter was too short, then I wrote the last scene in it… and it became one of the longest chapters in the story. And I realise there are a lot of scene flips in this one. It's a little crazy.

This is the last backlog chapter! Normal ETAs from here on out, without any possible completion date estimates. Maybe 2011 will be the year the fic is finished?

Happy Holidays, and if I don't see you again before the New Year, Happy New Year!

* * *

_Completed: December 23, 2010_


	27. Connections

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Titans, nor do I own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the two. Teen Titans is © of DC Comics, Harry Potter is © of J.K. Rowling, and Warner Brothers holds © over both of them.

**Author's Warning:** This is a crossover fic. :Watches people close the window.: Ahem. Those of you who do not like crossovers may leave now. The rest of you, I invite to continue on…

**Summary:** Trigon has returned, and Voldemort has joined him as a minion. Drawn by strange dreams, Raven must involve herself in the problems of others, including one Harry Potter, who is once again being plagued by strange nightmares. This year at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends are going to be pitted against their most difficult task yet. Destroying a force that even the Dark Lord himself fears won't be easy…

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Demon's Wrath, or; Year Seven and Negative One-Fourth**

_Chapter 27 -_ _Connections_

Hogwarts, upon her return, didn't immediately feel any differently than it had when she had left. Things were still in the same place, the castle and its wards still felt the same – lighter, even, since a lot of the school was just trickling back in today, and it wouldn't be at full capacity until sometime that night – but all the same, Raven still recognised a definite difference as she entered into the castle proper after a quick walk around the grounds.

She didn't know what it was, and suspected she was going to have to do a bit more research on the castle itself if she wanted to have any hope of finding out what it was, but she knew that she wasn't very sure about it for one particular reason: she couldn't figure out if it made her feel comfortable or uncomfortable.

At first she'd thought the feeling was comforting, in some strange way, because although it was a bit of a chaotic feeling, that chaos was controlled – or at least contained; whether or not they were the same thing in this instance was hard to tell. And then she'd been disturbed by it, because she'd realised just how wild the power actually was.

It was strange, and not something she'd noticed around Hogwarts before, so she had no idea where it might be coming from. And really, it wasn't something that she wanted to learn the origin of – though she knew it was something she would have to look into anyway. It would end up coming back to bite her if she didn't, she knew that much, and she doubted that anyone else at Hogwarts could sense what she could.

The controlled Wizarding magic she'd encountered so far really didn't allow for something as intricate as this… which was part of the reason she wondered where it had suddenly appeared from.

She fully intended to worry about it once she'd relaxed a bit, though. She was stressed and tense after leaving Titan's Tower, feeling as though there was something she had missed that she shouldn't have. So much had been going on when she left that she didn't really know what the state of things were anymore, and that bothered her as much as anything else did.

Raven sighed, shook her head and let herself fall backward from her sitting position, into an almost relaxed, horizontal pose on her bed. Weak, mid-afternoon winter sun shone into the room and Raven watched the sky beyond the arched windows, her mind stuck on the vision from just before the holiday of seeing Dracona fly by them in her Lyftcynn form.

She didn't feel any better equipped to deal with things here than she had when she'd returned home. More knowledge, in this instance, was not giving her any more power If anything, the additional knowledge made her dread the term to come. The next few months didn't promise anything but a taxing, continuous battle between too many factions. Raven had too few allies here, and she feared she still lacked the awareness of this world that she was going to require in order to see this mission through successfully.

Raven raised her hand into the air, holding her wand above her to take a long look at the slender piece of wood. Unicorn hair and phoenix flight feather. That was what the man had said the core of the wand contained.

The unicorn hair called to mind the creature it came from, the purity and simple power of the beast – something that scarcely could be said to represent her at all – and the phoenix feather evoked rebirth; a continuous cycle…

The phoenix represented her more, she was sure, and Raven had little doubt that there was something to the qualities of the wand in regard to the witch or wizard it chose.

The double-cored wand confused her. Confused her enough that it - combined with the limits she felt having to use the wand placed upon her powers - had been something she'd put entirely from her mind. Perhaps the wand told her something about herself, but it certainly wasn't going to tell her anything about Dracona, Trigon or Voldemort.

…and beyond that, Raven didn't entirely know that she wanted to know what the dual core wand said about her. She refused to think about it enough to try and work it out.

Raven tucked the wand back into her pocket at the sound of foot falls beyond the door, leaning over to grab a book off of the table beside her bed when the door didn't open and the sound continued on past the dormitory and toward the upper floors. A student in another year, someone who was probably just dreading the start of term and had the same level of panic about Voldemort as everyone else. Not someone who knew anything about Trigon, or the workings of the Order, or Dracona, or how desperate this was all becoming.

Raven sighed and flipped the book open, not seeing the words on the page, not even knowing which book she had grabbed. Something she had to read, no doubt, but she couldn't concentrate on it now. The feeling that something was quickly approaching had come over her, and it left Raven unable to focus, unable to do anything but dread what was coming.

Raven slammed the book closed, lifting her hands and letting her powers pull the curtains closed around her bed, drifting up into a meditative position just above the bed clothes and closed book. Her eyes shut and Raven expelled a long breath, only inhaling again when she couldn't stand to breathe out anymore.

In and out.

In and out.

"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos…"

A slam, and then laughter when the door to the dormitory shot open, bouncing against the wall. Raven's eyes snapped open and she scowled at the scarlet curtains hiding the interruption from view. Though tempted, she didn't bother with throwing open the curtains to tell off Parvati and Lavender. That she'd even thought here was a good place to try meditating was laughable – she was too used to being back at the Tower, where any room was generally a safe haven.

"_Then_ she told me—"

"She's right beside you, why are you yelling?" Raven growled, throwing back the drapes on one side of the bed and standing up. Parvati and Lavender stared at her for a moment, expressions stunned, then Lavender rolled her eyes.

"My Christmas was excellent, Raven, how was yours?"

Raven heaved a sigh. "Peaceful," she ground out. Then, "Excuse me," as she pushed past them and into the corridor beyond the dormitory. Astronomy Tower in mind, she made her way down the stairs and out of the common room, ignoring the stares she got from a couple of people as she passed through. She knew that, really, they were only watching her because she had walked by and she was still that 'weird purple haired transfer student from America.'

At least she could be comfortable knowing none of _them_ wanted her out of the way.

At the entrance to the Astronomy Tower Raven paused, making her way to the nearest window to study the grounds. There were a couple of people but in the snow, mostly gathered around the lake where someone had cleared a patch of snow with a spell to reveal the dead grass beneath. There was no other action on the grounds, though, and shaking her head Raven withdrew from the window to return to the door to the tower. Something was still setting her on edge, and she wished she could figure out what it was.

She popped the lock on the door with a burst of power and, glancing around once to make sure no one was watching, eased open the door and slipped inside. The Astronomy Tower, off limits except for classes, was always nice and quiet – a definite relief from the rest of the castle – but even here she didn't feel as though she'd gotten away from the weird sensation the castle was giving off.

Shaking her head, Raven began to make her way up the stairs toward her meditation spot, but paused halfway up the first flight.

"Who's there?" she demanded, looking around. An extension of power to probe at the dark corners above her returned nothing, but it didn't convince Raven that she was alone.

"Hello?" she called, taking to the air and floating upward so that her feet wouldn't make any sound on the stairs. Still no response. Was she being paranoid?

Somehow Raven didn't think so. She'd been thrown back into whatever was going on before the holidays, with her powers playing tricks on her and the environment throwing her for a loop. This was reminding her of that meet up with Draco Malfoy in Hogsmeade, and if he was anywhere around…

She hadn't thought that Draco would be back at the school, not after suddenly vanishing the way he had, but if he was that might explain things a bit better. Something had been going on with Draco, and if this was her chance to figure out exactly what that was…

* * *

Speeding up her pace, Raven slid into her usual nook and hovered up into a cross-legged position, closing her eyes and sinking into meditation. Draco Malfoy was the least of her worries, but he might just be the easiest thing to deal with, if he was, in fact, back at Hogwarts.

It was almost curfew by the time Raven returned to Gryffindor Tower. The common room was full when she stepped through the portrait hold and a bit of a glance around showed her Harry sitting in his usual place by the fire, Hermione and Ron sitting near him. Raven kept walking. She felt relaxed – or at least in control – after her meditation, and she didn't need that to be broken right now by someone demanding something of her. She'd take Parvati and Lavender over Hermione, right now. At least they didn't really care about where she'd been or what she was doing.

Her walk up the stairs was unimpeded. Her entrance into the dormitory itself was not.

"Hermione," she greeted, her hand on the doorknob but not turning it, still standing and facing the door instead of looking behind her to meet Hermione's eyes.

"Raven. You're causing trouble again."

Raven entered the dormitory instead of responding. Parvati and Lavender weren't there; she must've missed them in the common room.

The door slammed shut behind Hermione as she followed. "That's it, then? You're not even going to bother admitting that I'm right?"

"Did you ever stop to think that by confronting me all the time you're just inconveniencing yourself? Whatever you want to say to me, just say it."

"Stop getting Harry involved in your messes."

Raven rolled her eyes. "I am _not_ getting into this argument with you again." It was as if the holidays and their time apart had completely erased the little cooperation they'd managed before term had ended. "And before you accuse me of something, I'm not keeping anything from you. Okay? Go back to Harry and Ron. Enjoy the last night before classes start again. Let me deal with my mission on my own like I'm supposed to be."

Hermione was quiet, and Raven finally turned to look at her, unable to really tell anything from the jumble of emotions Hermione was pouring into the air and needing to see her face to see which was the dominant one. Frustration. Sure, Raven was frustrated too. She definitely knew how that felt.

"Harry said you told him Professor Seraphlin is a Death Eater," Hermione said quietly. Raven, who had already begun digging in her trunk, looking for something to read, paused and looked back at her.

"Working with Voldemort, yes. I don't know the exact position. And we shouldn't discuss this here."

"You think there's somewhere safer?"

"No," Raven replied with a shake of her head. "Dracona has powers I don't like, and that I… don't necessarily know how to counter. Don't discuss it amongst yourselves unless you're sure there's no way anyone can overhear."

Hermione was quiet while she processed that. "The Order's angry with you."

"I can handle it. I don't need their approval."

Quiet, again. Then footsteps as Hermione left, holding the door until it closed so that it wouldn't slam. Raven exhaled and let herself fall backward onto her bed. That had gone better than expected. Much better. She just wished she knew what it was going to mean for her, if she'd decided that the best course of action now was to push everyone away and just do it herself.

Pulling a roll of parchment from beside her bed, Raven recorded the players in this, trying to tie their connections together as best she could.

Trigon. At the top, directly controlling Voldemort, as far as she could tell.

Voldemort. Sitting just below the top, but at the top of the control in this plane. The thing everyone here feared. Controlled the Death Eaters but was taking his orders from Trigon.

Dracona. Somehow working for (or with? She drew a large question mark there) Voldemort. Lyftcynn clan. Definitely not operating with Trigon, but probably working with a similar goal.

Slade. Not even in Europe, but somehow an important player. He'd gotten his powers from Trigon – him and every other criminal in Jump City – but the power leak, or donation, or whatever it was, had been isolated to the Titan's city alone. Had to be directly related. She'd figure out how later.

Draco Malfoy. She wasn't even really sure where to put him on this, but she knew that somehow he was directly tied to Trigon, and that despite that he was directly tied to Voldemort. Were those connections the same, or separate? She marked them in a different colour ink.

She scrawled her own name at the bottom of the chart, drawing a dashed line to attach herself to Trigon. After all, she still held that direct connection, whether she wanted to acknowledge it or not. It could be important. It _was_ important, she just wasn't entirely sure how right now.

Then, in after thought, she added Snape's name to the chart as well. Him she connected only to Voldemort, though fairly certain it wasn't wholly accurate.

Raven rolled the parchment up after the ink had dried, thinking about the connections, picturing the image of the chart in her mind's eye. Writing them down helped stop them from jumbling around in her head, but seeing the connections hadn't shed any more light on them.

The weakest player here, at least, was probably Draco Malfoy – despite any connection to Trigon. She would go after him first, try to get him out of the puzzle so she could narrow things down to the major players.

Easier said than done.

* * *

Raven found herself in the Headmistress' office first thing the next morning, having been swept up by the woman while she was on her way to her first class. She'd been promised a note to excuse her absence but, with her first class of the term being Defence Against the Dark Arts, and thus Dracona's class, somehow Raven didn't think that was going to matter.

"I assume you're aware of why you're here, Miss Roth?" McGonagall asked, staring down at her. Raven sighed.

"I should've warned you that I was going to be leaving, but there was nothing here I could have done in the time off anyway," Raven said curtly. Then, before McGonagall could reply, "What role does Snape play in all of this?"

There was a shuffling sound and a couple of interrupted snores – that sounded more like snorts – came from the sleeping portraits on the walls. Interesting.

McGonagall pursed her lips, expression saying that Raven wasn't going to get anything on this topic unless she worked at it carefully. That was alright. "Headmistress McGonagall, I need to know who he is. I know he's staying in the forest, and I know you know something about it. He told me to inform only you that he was involved in returning me from Voldemort's lair."

McGonagall winced when Raven spoke the name, but otherwise her expression at the end of the explanation was sober. "Then you know all there is to know. Severus Snape's motives are not easily spelled out, but he is, ultimately, on our side."

Raven nodded.

"Miss Roth, I expect you will be staying here to see out the rest of your term," McGonagall continued, as though they hadn't just diverged into a difficult topic. Raven nodded again.

"I'll need your permission to conduct myself with more leniency than the school structure allows."

"Do try to be discreet, Miss Roth. You're dismissed."

Not a yes, but not an outright no. Fine. Things were going to continue much as they had before the previous term ended, and Raven was fairly certain she could deal with that. After all, she'd been asked here. She would conduct things as she saw fit.

* * *

Once it had been established that he was in the castle, Draco Malfoy was not a hard person to find. Cornering him away from his circle of admirers was more difficult, and had led to her missing classes she didn't have with him, and trailing him as he attended his.

She managed to catch him alone when he detoured behind the greenhouses on his way to Herbology, but the strange behaviour drove her to continue to keep her distance. The class started in less than five minutes, and while she knew Malfoy considered himself well above the rules, he'd so far been keeping his head down, nose clean, from what she'd seen so far. Why ruin that so quickly?

Black school robes doing nothing to camouflage her on the snow covered lawn, Raven gathered herself in power and glided to the cover the edge of the forest provided. Draco wasn't the only one out here. Sure, she could sense the frenetic, high-strung emotions of students in the greenhouses, knew they were there, but this was someone else. Not a teenager, and much close to her, physically, than anyone but Draco.

Keeping the blond in her sights, Raven cast out her power, trying to identify the other figure – or at least figure out where the person was standing so she could find them. The emotions she was picking up were controlled; a little impatient, but barely registering at all compared to Draco's fear. He knew the other figure was there. This was set up.

Raven stopped walking when Draco, who'd been creeping along just at the edge of the forest, veered among the trees just ahead of her.

"I'm no more tolerant of tardiness now than I ever was," a man's voice said once Draco's footsteps had halted. Raven's eyes widened, and she lifted herself up to his amongst the branches of the nearest tree to get a better look at the meeting.

She should've figured by his destination that Draco was meeting Snape. It didn't fit with how she'd seen Draco acting previously, but he was still, somehow, answering to Voldemort, whatever direct connection to Trigon he had. Snape, no matter what McGonagall had assured her that morning, was still playing both sides. She'd make her own judgement of whether or not she was going to trust that his ultimate loyalties were to the Order's side.

"I got here soon as I could. I'm not late," Draco retorted, sounding young and spoilt in reaction to the scolding words. Giving him any responsibility was either the best or the worst thing Voldemort and Trigon had ever done. "What's this about? Why couldn't he just tell me himself?"

"I asked for you," came Snape's simple reply. "And as you're aware, the Dark Lord grants me certain… leniencies, shall we say. Come, Draco. There's something I must speak with you about, and it isn't wise to do so here."

They began moving upon again, the snow crunching beneath both sets of footsteps, one person – Draco, no doubt – louder than the other. Raven followed, phasing from tree to tree until she'd followed them to the glen and invisible barrier where she'd first encountered Snape. Holding herself still, Raven waited, watching carefully as Snape drew an entrance in the warding.

At a gesture from Snape, Draco stepped forward and through the ward. She could see him for a moment and then he was gone, hidden by the magic in the air.

Knowing she had seconds, Raven projected outward, trusting her physical body was safe in the tree and using her astral form to slip into Snape's shadow as he passed through the ward and into the protected area beyond. She felt a tingle when the magic brushed her, just feeling, not rejecting, and then she was safe to break away from Snape and loiter in the shadow of the nearest tree while Snape resealed the ward and joined Draco on the porch of the cabin that had been hidden here.

She trailed again when they went inside, hoping this didn't take too long. The last time she had projected out here she'd been safe in the walls of the castle. Now she was not, and she knew she couldn't stay out here too long without starting to freeze.

"Nice place," Draco said, the sarcasm in his tone thick enough to cut. He didn't react to the dark look Snape cast him in return. "What am I supposed to be learning from you?"

"It's what I'm to learn from you, Draco," Snape replied. He hadn't sat when Draco had, and Raven noticed his wand was also in his hand, though by his side. She couldn't tell if Draco had noticed or not.

Draco stared at him, confusion on his face. "What do you mean, Sir?" Respect had entered his tone; even without being an empath, Raven knew fear was creeping into Draco.

"What I mean, Draco, is that the Dark Lord is not wholly confident in your loyalty to him, and I am meant to test that now that you are back at Hogwarts and within my reach."

"You're mad," Draco replied. "_He's_ mad. I've been nothing but loyal! Been under the same roof as him for a couple months, you'd think he'd know that by now!"

"The Kinnyl's Eclectics robbery. Where were you that morning?" Snape asked. "Because I was at Malfoy Manor and you certainly weren't."

Needing a better view of Snape's face, Raven shifted to the flickering shadow the candles cast in the large, unlit fireplace. Impassive, as she'd expected, but the name had lit something within _her. _Kinnyl's Eclectics. She'd have to do more research to figure out why the name sounded familiar.

Draco muttered something that Raven, in her musing, missed.

"You don't remember," Snape said. "I find that hard to believe."

"I don't care," Draco retorted. "I'm telling you the truth. Dark Lord should've just asked me all this stuff himself."

"Look at me, Draco."

Draco did, and Raven noticed a focus in Snape's gaze that she recognised from when she'd been held in that cell. Snape had looked at her much the same way before her power had reacted, rejecting him and forcing him away from her. Voldemort had given her the same look before she'd become trapped by his mind.

The look faded quickly, and an almost imperceptible frown came over Snape's face.

"I told you I—"

"How long have you had holes in your memory for?" Snape asked. His voice was quiet, more delicate than it had been for the entire exchange.

"There aren't any holes!" Draco replied hotly. "I remember everything just fine!"

"You can't lie to me, boy. Don't try to push me."

Distracted by cold, Raven forced herself to shift again, noticing that Snape's eyes twitched and darted to the wall she'd moved across but not caring. She needed them to get to the point soon. Her attention was becoming divided enough that she needed to rejoin her consciousness with her body, and she couldn't even take off out of here without Snape reopening the ward.

"How long?" Snape repeated, focus on Draco again.

The blond didn't seem to have noticed that Snape's attention had ever moved from him. "A few months," he muttered after a pause.

Snape nodded. "That is consistent with what I've found. We have to recover those memories, Draco. You will come here each night after dinner until we've broken through your memory block."

"Can't you just do it now?" Draco asked, a bit of a whinge to his voice. "It's not like you don't have the power."

"I suspect Lucius and Narcissa would object to my turning their only son into a vegetable."

Draco paled, if that was even possible with how pale he already was, and Raven grimaced. Things were going blurry. This was more than just being cold. Whatever was happening, she needed to reconnect with her body, and fast.

She didn't think before she darted for the window, and she probably should have, because her focus on getting out of the cabin meant she wasn't looking behind her, didn't feel the eruption of magic as she revealed herself. Didn't know how she could feel as though she was falling even though she was separate from her body, but knew what being pinned felt like.

Recognised that the sound bouncing back to her ears, more and more quietly because she was losing consciousness and not because it had been short-lived, was the cry of a raven.

* * *

_Author's Corner_

Hope this chapter at least gave you some sense of where things have to go from here! Second term's begun; the action's starting to spiral to the peak of the story. And Raven is unconscious. Oops.

* * *

_Completed May 17, 2011_


	28. Interrogation

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Titans, nor do I own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the two. Teen Titans is © of DC Comics, Harry Potter is © of J.K. Rowling, and Warner Brothers holds © over both of them.

**Author's Warning:** This is a crossover fic. :Watches people close the window.: Ahem. Those of you who do not like crossovers may leave now. The rest of you, I invite to continue on…

**Summary:** Trigon has returned, and Voldemort has joined him as a minion. Drawn by strange dreams, Raven must involve herself in the problems of others, including one Harry Potter, who is once again being plagued by strange nightmares. This year at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends are going to be pitted against their most difficult task yet. Destroying a force that even the Dark Lord himself fears won't be easy…

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Demon's Wrath, or; Year Seven and Negative One-Fourth**

_Chapter 28 – Interrogation_

"Raven and Malfoy aren't here," Harry observed, gaze taking in the greenhouse and students around him as he tried to clip the dead branch from the fairy rose he was pruning. Hermione jabbed him in the side with her finger, tugging the pruning shears from his hand just before he clipped one of the plant's thorny buds instead.

"If you want to get into the Auror's program, you'll pay a little more attention to your assignments and less to what other people may-or-may-not be doing," she chided, handing the shears back to him.

"Knows he's got you for that, doesn't he?" Ron asked, removing a branch from his own bush and throwing it into the pile in the middle of the table.

"Yes, well, he won't have me when he writes his N.E.W.T.s, and I definitely won't be there for the Auror aptitude tests," Hermione replied. Harry glanced at her bush, shimmering with happiness at how well it had been pruned. Neville's looked similar. Harry's own didn't look much perkier than it had when the class started.

"You're assuming the Ministry's back to normal by the time we graduate," Harry said grimly. "D'you think it's going to be? 'Cause I don't." He didn't look at Hermione as he said it, preferring to continue to study the rest of the class, and avoiding Professor Sprout's gaze as he did it.

Hermione made a distressed noise. Ron hit his shoulder. "Try some confidence, mate. Looks better on you."

"Yeah, yeah," Harry muttered. "Where do you think they are?"

"Raven hasn't been around all day," Hermione said, matter-of-factly. Harry nodded, having noticed that.

"Malfoy was, though," Ron said. "Slimy git. What's it matter where he's gone off to?"

"You see?" Hermione asked Harry, reaching across him for the watering can. He passed it to her.

"Ask her at dinner where she was if it's bothering you so much, Harry," Ron said. His eyes were on Neville as their dorm-mate snipped a branch from the middle of his bush, motions painstakingly slow.

"What if she's not there, either?"

"Why wouldn't she be? Gotta eat, right? Hell, just ask her out already, mate. At least then the keeping up with where she is all the time will make a little more sense."

"Ronald!" Hermione exclaimed as Harry sputtered.

"What? Nothing wrong with a bloke asking a girl to Hogsmeade, is there? Honestly, mate? Thought you were snogging her already."

"Ronald Weasley! Harry is not and is never going to even consider doing _anything_ with that girl!"

Harry gave Seamus and Padma Patil, sitting at the next table over, a tight smile. "Would you two keep it down?" he asked out of the corner of his mouth. "Ron, you're about to get stabbed by your bush."

Ron let out a shout as he retracted his hand from the buds that were starting to close in on it. Hermione looked smug. Harry just shook his head, returning his attention to the bush in front of him, completely unwilling to continue to humour Ron's assertion that he and Raven should (of all things) date.

* * *

Returning to consciousness didn't bring with it the sort of awareness Raven might have hoped it would. Then again, even the bare knowledge that she was still alive satisfied her for the moment. At least until she realised that wherever she was she wasn't alone, and the reason she couldn't see had more to do with an external force than with it being exceptionally dark.

She was physical again. Had somehow made it beyond the wards around the cabin and back into her body - and whatever she was lying on was hard. Flat enough that it couldn't be the forest floor; smooth enough that she probably hadn't been returned to the castle just to collapse on the stone; hard enough that it couldn't be a bed. Quick deduction, and the familiar feeling of two presences pressing in on her, suggested she was still in the cabin. She'd been discovered by Draco and Snape – not that big a surprise, especially compared to still being alive.

Wary because despite having figured out where she was, there was no way of determining just how she would be received – she could only assume it wouldn't be well – Raven opened her eyes. Less than a moment later, Snape had moved to stand over her. Draco sat in a chair on the other side of the cabin, looking at her with a mixture of worry and distaste.

"I begin to think your nuisance outweighs your usefulness," Snape drawled. Raven gave him an irritated look.

"Since my usefulness was never to your cause, I can see why you'd think so," she replied. Draco snickered, drawing her gaze over to him for a brief moment when the waves of fear he was emitting faded a little. She could only study him for a moment, though, before Snape brought her attention back to him.

"I wouldn't recommend you continue with the smart comments," Snape said. "As I'm sure you're aware, you've led yourself into quite the tight place."

Raven rolled her eyes. This man spoke as big as any villain she'd ever met; that he actually thought it might intimidate her was actually a little insulting in itself.

"Tell me," Raven said, figuring it was easier just to use this to her advantage if Snape wasn't planning on letting her out of here. "If I'm such a problem, why not let me die?" That she now owed this man - and possibly Draco as well - her life was more than a little unsettling.

"As I said," Snape replied, withdrawing so he was looming above where she lay on the rug by the fireplace rather than leaning in close, and letting Raven sit up. "You have a quantity of usefulness that can't be dismissed out of hand."

Someone above him wanted her for something. Voldemort and Trigon wanted her, and no matter who else he was working for - and he had definitely proved to her the last time they'd met that he was working for someone else - Voldemort's wishes were crucial.

When Raven didn't immediately respond, Snape turned to Draco, head tilting toward the door. "To class, Draco, before you're missed by too many."

She could just make out the blonde's frustrated expression around Snape's figure.

"When—"

"_Now,_" Snape interrupted.

Draco rose, his upper lip curled. "Yes, _sir_," he scowled. He gave Raven a dark look as he pulled on his cloak and stalked out, letting the door slam behind him.

Raven, already aware of what he'd been going to ask, looked back at Snape as the man lowered himself into the chair that Draco had vacated.

"Sit," Snape ordered, pointing her toward the other one. Raven levered herself up from the floor and obeyed, feeling the shift in energy as Draco passed through the wards around the cabin. "Talk."

She raised an eyebrow. "About?"

Snape sneered at her. "I see little point in you trying to make yourself out to be stupid." The man was so tense and guarded that she could scarcely read anything off of him at all. Was this the control training in Occlumency gave him? Maybe she should have been encouraging Harry toward this instead of teaching him what she had been.

"Why did you help me, back at Christmas?"

"I was under orders," Snape answered curtly.

She gave him a flat look. "You warned me not to tell anyone you'd been there. You're lying."

Snape studied her for a long moment, something sparking in his black eyes that she couldn't read, being completely blind in regard to what he might be feeling because her powers just weren't working on him. It was frustrating, to say the least.

"My motives are none of your concern. You've been out here before. Who were you following?"

"Draco," she said shortly. She didn't like where this conversation was starting to go, not in the least, but maybe by keeping her answers brief and having Snape ask all of the questions, she could learn more about him than he was learning about her. Maybe.

"And what interest could you have in Draco?"

"I don't think that's your business," Raven replied.

Snape's wand was out and pointed at her in a flash. She groped at her pocket, not finding the slim piece of wood stored there, glaring when Snape pulled it from the folds of his robe with his other hand. She didn't need it – and putting up any pretence of needing it was probably pointless when he already knew something of who and what she was – but all the same, Raven had become so accustomed to using it to disguise her in this world that for a moment she felt confused. When had she come to actually rely on it?

"I think," Snape said, sounding dangerous, "That you'll find your answer is inadequate."

"Do you know why he has gaps in his memory?" Raven asked. Snape already knew she'd been spying on them – there was no point in dancing around the topic as though she hadn't been here.

Snape crossed his arms, his wand dangling from his fingertips, not at the ready but still angled toward her. Her wand had disappeared into his robes again. "I have my suspicions," he replied.

Not for the first time, she wondered what they were playing at, attempting a civil conversation.

"And?" she prompted.

He narrowed his eyes at her, that sense of danger spreading to his eyes as he tried to intimidate her into feeding him her own thoughts. She didn't say anything.

"Where do your loyalties lie, Miss Roth?" he asked, instead of answering.

"With my team."

That narrowed eyed look didn't disappear.

"Your team," he murmured. Not a question, just an echo as he contemplated the words. She let him. There was no hidden meaning there, and if Dracona had been telling Voldemort and his Death Eaters as much as she expected, then Snape already knew just what she meant.

"The Order?" he asked finally.

"I'm here at their request," Raven replied. Again, something that Dracona knew.

"But you don't consider yourself a part of the Order?"

Was he baiting her? He didn't know nearly enough about her to be successful at it.

"Is there a point to this interrogation? You wanted to know about Draco," she reminded him.

One of Snape's hands had drifted upward and he was outlining his lips with a fingertip, the gesture contemplative. "So I did," he agreed. "But my question, first."

"I'm a consultant," she replied. It was as good a word as any, and not really at all the truth since she was definitely here to do all of the work while the Order dealt with their actual enemy.

As though everything had come together in his mind, Snape's hand dropped from his mouth. "Gaps in memory are the most telling signs of possession."

"They are," Raven agreed. She'd long ago figured out that Trigon was possessing Draco. Maybe Snape knew why.

"Draco isn't acting entirely under the orders of the Dark Lord," Snape explained.

Raven let her eyebrows climb at this information. He was acting so differently now from how he had been when she'd been in that cell, and Raven still didn't know what to make of it.

"And you are?" she asked.

Snape stood. "Go to the Headmistress' office. Tell her you need to speak with Albus Dumbledore concerning his final wish. She'll know enough of what you mean to leave you alone. Then return here tomorrow after sunset."

"Just tell me," Raven ground out. "I don't have the time or the patience to go on some wild chase after information I don't need."

Snape looked down at her, his expression so unaffected she didn't know what to think. "Your decision. Now go, I have things to do."

The sudden dismissal shocked her enough that Raven rose from her chair before she'd fully registered what she was doing.

"You have my wand," she said blandly.

He bared his teeth at her in a smile that was more of a sneer than anything else. It looked painful – she knew the feeling. "So I do," he said, and extended it to her.

She wrapped her hand around the handle, taking it and tucking it away in the pocket in her school robe.

"You don't need it," he said when she was halfway to the door. There was a bit of a question in his voice, even though he'd experienced her power first hand.

"Whether I do or don't isn't your concern," she said shortly, pushing open the door and letting it fall closed behind her as she descended the cabin's porch steps.

It was only when she was already surrounded by the close press of the forest that she realised she'd been able to pass through the wards without any problem.

* * *

_Author's Corner_

Okay, here's the deal. You've already noticed that this chapter is dramatically shorter than any that have come before it. 4000-5000 word chapters have been a huge burden on me lately, so I'm cutting down the chapter length on this and all future chapters in the hope of getting the story out more quickly. It's entirely a perception thing, but it's a really big deal in my head.

In addition, this story is giving me _a lot_ of trouble right now. So while I'm hoping the shorter chapter lengths are going to go toward helping me get it finished and out for you guys to read, I make no promises. I made the shortened chapter decision to stop me from placing this story on hiatus and making it a backburner project altogether, even though it really made me feel like I was giving in. :P

In the meantime, if you like Buffy I recommend you check out my newest project, "Prosopopoeia" which is getting weekly postings because I have a huge chunk of it already written and in backlog. :)

* * *

_Completed September 24, 2011_


End file.
